


Hey Love

by lydian_kier



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Yuri Plisetsky's Nickname Is Yurio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 59,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydian_kier/pseuds/lydian_kier
Summary: Viktor promised he would return in time for Russian nationals, but Yuuri doesn't want to leave Japan. Before training for nationals begins, Yuuri and Viktor are invited to do a pairs skate to open the Gay Games in Taipei. This is the story of the rest of the season, through the world championships.





	1. Chapter 1

Viktor

The morning after the Grand Prix finals ended, I knew where to find Yuuri. The other skaters were sleeping in, after some pretty wild partying last night, but not Yuuri. This morning, I had awakened to find his place in the bed next to me empty. I stepped into the grand arena to find only one skater on the ice. Yuuri trailed lazy circles across the rink, practicing hip switches, seemingly deep in thought. For Yuuri, skating was his refuge, not the source of his stress. If Yuuri was stressed, it was always something else, like scores or rankings, or even worrying about whether he'd be able to continue skating. For the man I'd fallen in love with, his dream was always to be the best, and keep going as long as possible. To always be Yuuri on ice. After eight months of coaching him, that was becoming my dream too.

I strapped on my skates and watched him, waiting for a moment where I could enter the rink and not interrupt his thoughts. Yuuri did a little hip twist with some jazz hands that made me smile. Surely with that, his thoughts had turned to a less heavy topic. I stepped onto the ice.

Yuuri noticed me immediately. His smile was so sweet, it was impossible for me to reconcile that the inspiration for that smile was me. Then in the next moment, he remembered himself, as always, and his expression evened out.

"Viktor? You're not hung over?"

"Nah."

I skated toward the center of the rink, only to have Yuuri skate out toward me. We fell into stride and looped the rink together.

"Just two nights ago, I broke your record," Yuuri said, "and I placed second at the Grand Prix. I'm second in the world. Well, third, counting you."

I touched his hand and we twined our fingers together. 

"I wouldn't place yourself below Yurio, or me," I said. "I can easily see you overtaking us." 

Yuuri gave me a determined look, and I squeezed his hand. I loved it when his eyes shone like that.

"Come with me?" Yuuri pulled on my hand. 

I skated with him to the center of the rink.

Yuuri turned to face me and took both my hands in his. The lights overhead twinkled off our golden rings.

"Thank you for coaching me," Yuuri said.

"Hey." I interrupted him with a tug of my hands. "This isn't over yet. We still have Nationals, Four Continents and Worlds, and the Olympic trials." Though we both knew I would be competing for them from now on too.

"Just let me finish," Yuuri said. 

I stayed quiet, though my concern grew when Yuuri's eyes filled with tears.

"I was able to get further in the Grand Prix Finals," he said, sniffing, "further than I ever would have thought I could, because my hero, Viktor Nikiforov, believed in me. Today I feel like I could take on the whole world, if you would but continue to believe in me."

"Yuuri…" I dropped his hand and reached up, cupping his face and wiping his tears away with my thumb. "Don't cry." 

Yuuri clutched my other hand in both of his.

"I know that if I have your belief in me, that I can take the world," he insisted, closing his eyes. "Your faith in me cuts through all the noise. In that silence, I can hear my own heartbeat, and feel my confidence in myself."

Though I was glad to hear him say that, I wanted to stop his tears. "Skate your exhibition with me."

A playful smile rose on his lips. He pushed out from me and fanned wide. "My exhibition? You mean this one?"

I grinned and followed him. We fell into the piece that we had skated together last night after Yuuri took second place at the Grand Prix Finals. The same piece I had skated to last year: Stay Close to Me, or as Yuuri always called it, hanarezuni soba ni ite. I'd chosen it last year because I knew I was losing my inspiration, and that loneliness was crushing me. Then, last year, at the Grand Prix finals banquet, the awkward Japanese champion skater who had totally biffed it got shitfaced drunk and danced everyone to shame. His laughter, his open smile as he twirled me around like I weighed nothing (who knew the Viennese waltz could leave me winded?). Then, although we had never before spoken to one another, he wrapped me in his arms and begged me to be his coach. 

I'd streamed the Japanese nationals online and watched, so sure he would make a comeback with full confidence, knowing the Worlds would be right in his backyard in Tokyo, only to watch him choke and fall apart on the ice. I'd so looked forward to seeing him again, to see if what was said with the liquid courage of alcohol could be repeated in true form face to face, but after that, Yuuri disappeared. Stay Close to Me had taken on a new meaning, of fleeting hope and subsequent loss, that despair of not having a purpose or direction or someone to walk this path with me. I'd won my fifth world championship, set records yet again, deflected all inquiries on what I'd do next year, and returned home to sulk. No one around me seemed to understand that I was having a crisis. Then, out of the blue, the internet blew up, and I found Yuuri. Skating my routine on Youtube, handing Stay Close to Me back to me, along with an armful of hope and an invitation to choose my path. Yuuri changed this song for me yet again, and now we shared it together.

It wasn't common for a coach to skate with his skater, but Yuuri's reason for suggesting it was one I couldn't refuse: "I want to show the world that you're mine." We flowed from one sequence to the next. The most interesting part in choreographing this for us together was our shared lifting. Yuuri and I were close enough to the same height and weight that we could trade off lifting each other, rather than the traditional structure in pairs skating where one skater had to be the "man" and the other the "woman." Two men skating together and sharing the male and female roles was disallowed by the International Skating Union, but it was encouraged in one specific venue, which I hoped would open Yuuri's mind up to the idea I'd been working on for the last two days, and the important question I needed to ask him.

We took our time, settling into my favorite part, the death spiral. Something about Yuuri's complete strength and vulnerability with his entire rotation dependent upon me was so humbling, yet empowering at the same time. I had originally choreographed Yuuri to anchor me in the death spiral, thinking he would never consent to trying it himself, but he'd finally agreed to it. The exhibition was about him, after all. I should be the one guiding him as he sets the ice on fire.

We ended in a series of spins, and struck our final pose. I grabbed Yuuri's hand and twirled him to press his back against my chest. He leaned his head back against me, and I breathed in the sweat on his neck, my arms wrapped around his waist. Yuuri reached up and covered my arms, holding me there. We both waited for our breathing to slow down.

"I want to skate your exhibition again," I said once more.

"Right now?" Yuuri asked.

I laughed, summoning my courage. "No. We've been invited to open the LGBT Games in Taipei."

Yuuri twisted around to look at me. "We're going to Taiwan?"

That's the question you have? "Uh, the coordinator who contacted me said that the skate would be broadcast live in the stadium of the opening ceremonies. I assumed we could broadcast from a rink in Tokyo so the film crew could get to us."

Yuuri blinked at me. "We'll skate at my home rink in Hasetsu. That way the crew and press can stay at the onsen."

I sighed and nodded. "So you'll do it? I arranged for the money they'd pay us to go to a charity that helps promote a positive body image in youth. That's how we can do it and not get in trouble with the ISU."

Yuuri's eyes clouded over. He glanced to the side, and worry rose within me.

"I'd never thought about whether I was gay or straight, or bi," Yuuri said. "I'd always assumed I'd have time to figure that out after my skating career was over."

Wow. "Sasugane, that's my late bloomer." I kissed him on the forehead.

Yuuri still didn't meet my eyes. "I've been obsessed with you since I was a child. I fell in love with skating, then discovered you, then gave everything I had to catching up to you. For as long as I can remember, all I wanted was to skate the way you do, and captivate the audience the way you have. I haven't had any desires other than being the best skater I possibly can. My mattress is stuffed with all the posters I had of you on my walls before you came to live with us."

I gaped. He was completely derailing me. Now all I could think about was the many impassioned ways Yuuri could physically express those sentiments to me. 

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and touched our foreheads together. "Gay isn't just a word. LGBT, the rainbow flag, these symbols represent a movement that allows us to be together, even in countries like ours, where we don't have legal protections."

Yuuri then finally met my eyes, his own filled with tears again.

"Viktor, do you want to be together?"

A bolt of fear shot down my spine. Why was he asking this now? 

"Yuuri," I pulled back a bit and petted his hair, gently imploring him to not break my heart. 

"Isn't that obvious?" I asked. "What were you thinking when you bought us gold rings? What about your excitement when I said that they were engagement rings, and I would consent to marry you after you won the gold at the Grand Prix? Did that not mean that you wanted to be together?"

The tears spilled over and Yuuri nodded furiously. "I do! Viktor, I want to be with you! I do!"

He pulled me in tight. I held him like it was the end of the world. We stood there for several precious moments. 

"I just wanted to get that out in the open," I said. "Opening for the LGBT Games will leave no room for alternative interpretations by others, so I wanted to make sure you knew that and understood. It will be outing us."

Yuuri swiped his tears away, then fist bumped my hand, our rings sparkling as bright as his eyes.

"I'll do it," he said.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting!

Yuuri

I have changed so much since Viktor came into my life.

I shuffled in my seat on the plane so that Viktor was sleeping against my chest rather than my bony shoulder. I sighed and watched him sleep, completely conked out only a few minutes after takeoff. There was something about Viktor's love for me that made the vast majority of my mental confidence struggles disappear. Viktor had won the world, dominated for years, with poise and grace. This feeling was different from the love I got from my family and friends back home, who supported me but ultimately did not understand what I was going through. Viktor understood, and believed I would triumph, just as he had. It was Viktor's power that convinced me I had the power to believe in myself too.

The flight from Barcelona to Moscow took four hours, then from Moscow to Vladivostok another eight and a half. I could have booked a direct flight from Munich to Tokyo, but Viktor needed to renew his visa at his home embassy in Vladivostok, and I had chosen to see him off. So here I was, ever the fanboy, flying across Russia for no reason other than to let him use me as a pillow. My heart had apparently decided that Viktor hung the Moon.

The hours passed. 

The plane was in full descent, but Viktor was still snoozing against me. I now sported a patch of drool on my chest.

I jostled him gently. "Viktor. We're here."

When he did not stir, I kissed that place on the top of his head. "Viktor, you have to wake up."

He groaned, splayed out into the aisle, then turned and wrapped his arms completely around my waist, effectively burying his face in my crotch. When I finally breathed again, it took all of my energy to keep a certain part of my body from reacting to Viktor Nikiforov's beautiful face being so close nearby. I was sure my face was as red as a beet. I was sweating like the airplane was a sauna.

Viktor stayed that way all through our descent. Upon landing, a flight attendant got up and barked at him to sit up. She then noticed my face (angry words in Russian sound so terrifying) and asked me in English if I was alright. I nodded vigorously so she would go away.

Viktor sat up sluggishly. "Yuuri got semi-hard on a plane. Pervert."

I squeaked.

He laughed at my mortified gasp. "How soon is your connection?"

"I have a couple of hours," I said.

"I'll stay with you," Viktor said.

"But your luggage—"

"I'll stay with you, Yuuri," my coach snipped petulantly. 

At my questioning look, he continued. "They're already making me renew my visa in person. If they deny me for some reason, I may not get to see you for months."

I gaped. "The consulate would keep a coach from his skater? I have nationals! Four Continents! And Worlds! And the Olympic trials!"

Viktor stuck his bottom lip out and scrubbed at his eyes. "I'm from a country where it's illegal to be gay. The government can do what it wants."

The plane finished taxiing and we all got up. I scrambled for words while I gathered my stuff. "I guess I haven't been considerate when I showed my affection during live broadcasts. I'll try to be more discreet—"

"No, Yuuri," Viktor said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. He glared at me while I stepped in line behind him. "Do not censor how you are with me. I won't have it."

And with that, Viktor charged off the plane. I trailed behind him like a dog with my tail between my legs, confused as to why he was so cross. Yet if Viktor had been worrying about his summons to renew his Japanese visa, it was no wonder he'd tried to sleep off his stress on the flight.

We left Viktor's checked baggage temporarily abandoned at the baggage claim and found my flight to Tokyo.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," I said as pleasantly as I could.

Viktor dashed a hand through his hair and huffed. "What time will you get into Fukuoka tonight? Do you have someone picking you up?"

"I'm spending a couple of days in Tokyo and flying home after that."

"Why?" Viktor grumbled.

I crossed my arms and stared at him. "I thought I would have a look around Shinjuku Nichome."

That got his attention. Viktor's blue-green eyes analyzed me. Tired of waiting for him to pull out of his funk, I stared anywhere but at him, though the Vladivostok airport was not particularly interesting. 

Slim, long fingers touched my chin. I allowed him to turn me to face him.

Viktor's eyes were a storm of wind and water. "Why are you going to the gay district in Tokyo?" The empty shudder in his voice conveyed everything in the words he did not say. His heart was laid bare here, and I could either lift it up with my answer, or crush it.

"I'm just going to see what it's like," I said. "I did some thinking on the flight."

Viktor bugged his eyes out at me. "You've been thinking for eight and a half hours?"

Like I could sleep with you smothering me! "I thought about us opening at the LGBT Games in Taipei. Taiwan has legalized gay marriage, right?"

Viktor nodded. "They can even adopt kids if they want."

I met Viktor's eyes head on, plowing forward before I could back down. "I meant what I said when I swore to win gold and ask for your hand. I'll take Nationals, 4CC and Worlds, then qualify for the Olympics, to show to everyone how much this year that you took off to coach me has meant to my skating. Even when you return to skating and we become rivals, I want our bond to grow even deeper than it has so far. I want to marry you, Viktor. Even if it means signing documents in Taipei that are not valid in our home countries. I want to be your partner, and I'm going to the gay district to find out what that means."

Viktor slid his hands to my shoulders and ducked his head. "Jesus, Yuuri, you sure don't pull your punches. What do you expect to learn in Shinjuku Nichome that you couldn't learn with me?"

I put my hands on his wrists in reassurance. "It's an entire district of LGBT people. They hold the voting majority and elect queer people to Japan's congress. Surely there is some wisdom I can glean from such a place."

Viktor squeezed my shoulders. "You are my late bloomer, Yuuri. You're still a virgin, right? You can't have a one-night stand if you get drunk in one of those clubs. Please."

"Shhh!" I screeched. 

Viktor held onto me and raised his head, hitting me with the full power of his glare. "I meant it. You're a beautiful dancer, Yuuri, and when you get smashed, you take your clothes off. Remember the Grand Prix banquet last year. After dancing my socks off and captivating everyone, you jumped into my arms and begged me to coach you, and look at me now. If you had told me to lasso the Moon I would have done it for you that night. You're intoxicating when your walls are down, and every man in a gay bar will see that!"

I compromised. "How about I only have a couple of drinks, and save getting hammered for when we both go sometime?"

Viktor smiled. "Yeah."

Then he cupped my face and kissed me, and I forgot the world for a second.

All too soon he pulled away, and only then did I realize he'd had seven-hour-plane breath and I probably should have found that gross, but my body was coursing with so much adrenaline I just didn't care. How could I have gone so many years in my adult life and not known about this? Kissing was awesome.

Viktor watched my reaction and laughed at whatever he saw. We sat down and he curled into my lap. We stayed that way until my flight.

The next morning, I stepped out of my hotel in Shibuya, completely unprepared for the constant deluge of Tokyo. I had almost no experience navigating in a huge city, so my contact had agreed to meet me outside of my hotel.

"Good morning."

I whipped around. "Takuya-san?"

A suited man in his early thirties gave a bow and produced his business card. I examined it: Takuya Mori. Agent. International Skating Union.

I hadn't told Viktor the full truth of what I was doing in Tokyo.

End Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting. <3 I hope you enjoy! I'm trying to adhere to the Yuuri/Yurio spelling convention, to prevent any confusion of who Yuri is! :D

Yuuri

"I-I don't have a business card," I stammered.

Takuya smiled. "That's okay, Katsuki-kun. I know who you are. Shall we go?"

I followed Takuya onto one of the subway lines and we emerged in Ginza.

"So do you think you'll keep doing this after today?" Takuya asked as we walked several blocks.

"Only if there is a way for it to benefit my family's business, and my home rink," I said. "A charity that helps young people develop a healthy body image is admirable, but ultimately, I have to focus on my training."

"Understandable," Takuya said. "It took me by surprise, Katsuki Yuuri contacting our office out of the blue. Right after the Grand Prix finals too. I think most skaters don’t bother to do what you're doing because the regulations are so cumbersome, and one misstep holds so many consequences."

"That's why I called you," I said.

Takuya nodded. "Today is officially sanctioned. No problems this time. Just make sure if you do anything else that you contact me first. I'll get you documented permission from the Union whenever I can. After you."

Takuya held the door open for me and I entered a ritzy building with a shopping center at the bottom. I followed Takuya as we ascended a flight of stairs, and then another. Five flights later, we entered a photography studio.

"Oi, Takuya, I thought you said you'd bring him in sweating!" someone said.

Takuya turned to look at me and smiled. "Katsuki-kun is a world-class athlete. He's not going to sweat after a few flights of stairs. Right, Yuuri?"

I looked around at the crew of men and women, uninterested in their banter. Some of them appraised me, while the others were setting up camera equipment and a photography set. Of course there was a bed in the middle of the stage. This was exactly the kind of thing Viktor was afraid of. That didn't matter. 

"You've brought your silver with you, Yuuri-kun?" one of the photographers asked.

They placed me in front of the lights, standing on the part of the stage that was out of the shot with the bed. I pulled out my silver medal and looped it over my head. I closed my eyes a moment and acknowledged the pain I still felt, three days later, for not having won the gold, but the weight of the silver medal on my chest was the weight of my accomplishments with Viktor, and my standing at second in the world.

I opened my eyes and glared, defiant, proud of who I am and what I've accomplished.

The cameras flashed.

"You're a natural, Yuuri," Takuya said, his expression amazed.

The massive flash had startled me though, and I found it hard to regain my composure. I was breathing like I'd just jumped a quad, and a tremble was coursing up and down my spine.

I closed my eyes again and steadied myself. The cameras clicked away, even with my eyes closed. I summoned my own inner strength and settled down.

We shot for an hour straight and then took a break.

"Yuuri-san, you're so cool," one of the younger photographers, Keiko-chan, said. She handed me an iced tea and we all sat down on the floor of the studio to relax.

I deflected the compliment.

Hayakawa, the lead photographer for the Japan Skating Federation Magazine, sat down across from me. "The issue going out tonight is the special Grand Prix Finals issue. The cover is the podium photo. I'm thinking this will come out in the next issue, printing this weekend, about life after the Grand Prix and preparing for Nationals."

"Yuuri will be the cover?" Takuya asked.

Hayakawa nodded. "You're so much easier to work with than that Yuri Plisetsky and Coach Yakov. There's something to be said for congeniality."

I took a deep breath and let it out. Of course they'd rather photograph the gold medal winner, Yurio. All of this sitting around made me want to hit the ice. I couldn't wait to get home. Maybe I'd skip Shinjuku Nichome and move my flight up to tonight.

Keiko-chan sipped her milk tea and sighed dreamily. "It'd be great if we could photograph Yuuri with his shirt off. And with Viktor too!"

I smiled. "I'd like to do a photo shoot in my hometown, if the magazine is ever interested."

Takuya patted me on the shoulder. "Always looking out for your family and your rink. You're a good son, Yuuri."

Hayakawa looked me up and down. "You know we called your house yesterday and introduced ourselves. We asked them to day-ship us your medals from all of your Nationals and adult competitions, but they refused."

"I'm not sure they believed who we are," Takuya said by way of explanation.

I clamped my mouth shut and suppressed my laughter. I could picture Mom and Dad politely refusing this request on the phone, completely confused.

"I'd hoped to photograph you with all of your medals on," Keiko-chan said wistfully.

"Those are really not much," I said gently. Surely they weren't missing out on that. My first global, not regional, medal was the one I had here with me.

"How about it, Yuuri?" Hayakawa said, leaning back on his hands, rolling a toothpick between his teeth. "We do an article on your life after the Grand Prix, your day-to-day, with Viktor in the photos and all your medals. We'll cover your home rink and plug the onsen too. Maybe a couple shots of you and Viktor at the beach or something."

I knew what he meant by that. Photos weren't allowed in the onsen, but at the beach, we would have almost all of our clothes off.

"I can't speak for Viktor," I said, "but I'd like to help the people who've supported me all these years if I can. When you come for the shoot, please stay at my family's house and let my parents take care of you. You're welcome anytime."

Takuya laughed. "Hold on a second, everybody! I just heard a dozen regulation violations I'd have to look into before any of this could happen."

Hayakawa leaned forward and locked eyes with mine, arresting me. "Figure it out, then," he said to Takuya. "ISU regulations shouldn't keep this one from being photographed. He's naturally photogenic, and his humble charisma has captivated the world. He holds us all in the palm of his hand. We might have the next Hanyu."

"Yuuri-san skates from the heart," Keiko-chan said softly. "Even Viktor gave off the vibe of wanting to push the limits of the sport, and always surprise the audience. But Yuuri-san has something else deep within that comes out when he skates, like a valve opening in his soul and the audience is watching it flow out. Even when you're nervous, we can't look away."

I finally broke Hayakawa's gaze to look at her. "Thank you, Keiko-chan."

#

Viktor

The visa renewal became a week of hotels and daily visits to the consulate general in Vladivostok, my mother's hometown and therefore my home consulate, despite years in Moscow and St. Petersburg. The first day, at the requested time, I presented all of my documents at my appointment and had my fears confirmed: there was a block on my automatically renewing visa, and they would have to look into it. I spent the next day waiting in the lobby, and after repeatedly requesting for an update, the consulate staff connected with someone in Moscow who informed them that it was on the Russian side, not the Japanese side of things. They would receive more information on the nature of the hold the next business day.

I barely slept those nights, tense in my cold hotel bed. I tossed and turned through the early hours of the morning, wondering at the severity of this restriction placed on me. Was it that by kissing Yuuri on global television, that I had violated the 2013 gay propaganda law? I'd heard of gay couples being arrested for so much as holding hands in the street. So how bad was it? Would I just have to apply in person, manually, each time I needed a new visa? Or was it that once Moscow was informed of my whereabouts, that the police could show up at my hotel room and haul me away? Or something in between. The pressure of the wait was wearing me down, scraping away my will power until I felt raw. Would I get to see Yuuri again? Or had my time come? I was famous enough that I could be made into a perfect example of the execution of the Public Indecency Act.

I waited out the entire week at the Consulate. With the help of the Japanese consulate administrators, we submitted my application for an athletics coordinator temporary visa and sent it off to Moscow for approval before processing. My application was denied, and at first the Moscow office would not give us a reason. I didn't sleep at all that night, but I didn't have the courage to call Yuuri and tell him about it either. I hadn't heard from him since earlier in the week when I asked him about Tokyo and he said he'd returned one night early to get back to skating. That was the Yuuri I knew.

Ten days later, the consulate staff finally received permission to issue me a visa, though it was only a temporary one and had to be manually renewed. In only three months, I would have to do all of this again. If I had known it would be so short, I would have just flown to Japan on a default tourist visa. Now I had gone through all of this trouble just to make sure I was placed firmly on someone's radar. As always, there was no clear information given as to why this was happening.

I gave a deep bow to the people at the Japanese Consulate and thanked them for all of their help. They had no shortage of apologies for all of this trouble, though none of it had been their fault. I was happy they too at least shared my confusion on why the Russian government was making this harder than it needed to be.  
I raced over to the airport, calling ahead and booking a seat on the next flight to Tokyo. I texted Yuuri that I was heading his way and then shut my phone off.

I paced at the gate, anxious to get out of Russia before someone changed their mind about my exit permit. Restless, I found a bookstore and decided to get the Grand Prix Finals issue of the International Skating Federation magazine. I flipped through it in the store, scanned the massive article on Yurio's ascendance and speculation on my eclipse. There was a small segment on Yuuri and the other finalists, and of course a section on me and whether or not my decision to return next season would actualize. They included a photo of Yuuri and I skating together at his exhibition. Just seeing that small photo was enough to relax me a little bit. I closed my eyes and imagined Yuuri hugging me and telling me that everything would be fine. It had been a stressful week.

I carried the magazine to the cashier, but on the way something caught my eye. 

A full-sized poster lined both sides of the front window that I had somehow missed on my way in. Hair slicked back, dressed all in black, the only color the silver medal on his chest and blue band around his neck. The clothes were form-fitting, and yet his posture was proud and invulnerable. Those eyes stared me down, bold and defiant, shoulders set. I froze. I was held captive, but I felt my skater's heart, fragile as glass, drop and shatter on the floor.

It was Yuuri.

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri

I trained for ten days without a word from him.

Every time I practiced my routine, I tried to imagine what Viktor might say in certain cases. I would have to learn to become my own coach, or at least to do without him, after he returned to skating. Though we had both decided this for ourselves, instead of being happy for him, my heart just ached for a couple of days and then went numb. I was so shallow of a person that I couldn't even mourn the loss of my coach for ten days, though my skating totally sucked because of it. I was training with everything I had, yet according to the Nishigori triplets I looked like I was made of cardboard. Uploads to Youtube were absolutely forbidden.

As the days wore on, I wondered if Viktor's visa was denied, whether he would just stay in Russia and resume training himself. He had already coached me through the Grand Prix, and I had both a short program and a free skate choreographed by him, though my exhibition piece would have to change without him there with me. Maybe that was all I deserved from him. Maybe this should end now.

That thought hit me in the middle of a jump. When I landed I slipped and fell.

"Yuu~ri!!"

I rolled over, still sprawled out, and closed my eyes against the bright overhead lights. "Yes, Yuko-san?"

I cracked an eye open to see Yuko leaning over the rink side, beaming. "Your mom called. He's back! Your husband's back!"

Don't put it that way…

"Viktor?"

"Who else?!"

I clenched my jaw. "At the onsen?"

"Yep! Aren't you going to go see him? It's not like your falling is of any use right now!"

That hurt.

I sat up and hid my face in my hands, willing my heart to not let hope rise from within. He could be quitting, just here on a tourist visa, needing to go back. He could be here to say goodbye, to grab Makkachin and return home. I had to face him.

Shit. My guts clenched and I leaned into my hands. I couldn't suppress the hope set aflame when I thought about Viktor. I knew I would sprint the entire way back to my house.

Shit.

#

Panting like mad, I burst through the front door of the onsen and ran toward Viktor's room. Makkachin didn't even come to meet me. That meant it had to be true—Viktor was here.

I stopped in front of his door, hesitated, then knocked.

"Douzo!"

I opened the door. Viktor was messing around in his suitcase, though whether he was unpacking or packing, I couldn't tell.

Makkachin jumped up to greet me.

Viktor stopped and grinned. "Yuuri!"

"Did you just come back to pick up Makkachin?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

Viktor's arms had been extended for a hug. He let them drop to his sides, his eyes searching mine.

"No," he said softly. "I got a visa. It just took some time—"

I dashed into his arms. Viktor held me tight. I gripped his jacket so hard my arms trembled.

"Did you think I would leave you behind?" Viktor said. "It almost sounded like you didn't want me to come back."

I shook my head against his shoulder. Of course not. How could he think that? I wanted things to be more secure between us. I'd trade in all of this passion for things to be more understood, more communicated and stable. This firey back-and-forth was ripping me to shreds.

"Did you see my photo?" I asked.

Viktor tensed in my arms. It was like hugging a brick wall. I had avoided telling Viktor on instinct because I suspected he would try to talk me out of it.

Viktor held me tight. "You looked great, Yuuri. You didn't tell me you were doing a photo shoot in addition to visiting Shinjuku Nichome."

"I wanted to surprise you," I said. "Is something wrong?"

Viktor pulled away and shook his head. "You looked powerful. They had you on a big poster at the airport."

"In Tokyo?"

"No, in Vladivostok."

"Really?"

"Of course." Viktor smiled and squeezed me. "Vladivostok is a lot closer to Japan than it is to Moscow."

I beamed, excited to have Russian fans.

"I'm sure you're at Narita and Haneda Airports as well," he said.

I shrugged, pulled out my phone. "I could have already been eclipsed by any number of pop stars. Take a look. I asked them to cut the image so we could use it in front of the rink and the onsen."

I showed him the file of the same image with the background cut out. Viktor nodded approval. "Yuko will get a full-sized standup of this in no time. I can already see the triplets dancing with it."

I laughed. "Here's one we took just as a trial. A men's magazine has already offered to buy it, if they can release it with their next issue, but the agent at ISU is still looking into whether or not I'll get in trouble if I take money for it."

I scrolled through to the photo and showed it to Viktor. They'd finally coaxed me onto the bed at the photoshoot. "The photographers had wanted all of my previous medals around me, but when they called home to have them sent to Tokyo, my parents refused because they thought it was fake."

I'd expected Viktor to laugh at that, but he was stiff again, his eyes looking betrayed.

In the photo, I was sprawled out on the bed, one hand combing my hair back like I'd just woken up. With the camera focused in on my head and shoulders, all around me were magazine photos of Viktor skating. The weirdest part, was in order to take the photo from above, Hayakawa had had to straddle my chest, kneeling on the bed over me. That was why I was blushing in the photo. I'd been uncomfortably giggling, but Hayakawa had talked me down like a pro.

"Why the photos of me?" Viktor asked. I couldn't read his tone.

"The magazine was thinking of running an article on the legacy of gay men in sports," I answered, knowing that that was only scraping the surface in answer to his question.

"Your medals would have been better," he said. "They make it look like you'd be nothing without me."

He sounded so cross. I tried to read the unsaid words underneath. "They told me to make a bedroom face, and I didn't know what that meant."

Viktor smiled, turning his attention back to me.

I continued. "So then they told me to think about katsudon, which just made my stomach growl."

Viktor laughed, rubbing his hands up and down my back. "So how did you get that face in the photo?"

I hesitated. "Well, part of it was because I thought the photographer might slip and fall on me, but he was really taking the photos when I started thinking about all the things I wanted to do with you."

Viktor started. "W-with me?"

"Yeah," I said, my face burning. "After the shoot, I wandered around in Shinjuku Nichome and had lunch at a diner run by a really sweet okama lady. I asked for her guidance. She took me to a bookstore in the district with lots of beginner's manuals. I've been studying."

"Studying?" Viktor squeaked.

"Yeah!" I chirped proudly. "One book covers the nature of consent and basic safety. Another is an introduction to male-male love for virgins. One way in which I've got a leg up is that I already know my own body somewhat, so I have a basic idea of what my partner with a similar body to mine might want. If I were with a woman, it would be back to square one."

Viktor swallowed and nodded. "Go on."

"But what is different from scenes in movies," I went on, "is that you're supposed to talk during all of these things. You can't just assume you're reading your partner's mind. Feedback is important. Viktor?"

He gripped my shoulders like he could barely stay upright. "Yuuri. Can we try some of the things you've read about? Please?"

Flustered, I slid the door shut behind me. "I've only gotten through the part that covers making out and um…"

"And?"

I dashed a hand through my hair. "And giving my partner a hand job, b-because I already know how to do that to myself and that's easy to talk through together."

Viktor nodded vigorously, his eyes intent on me. "Let's do that. That's a great idea."

I looked down at Makkachin, who was apparently bored enough to doze off. "Has he ever woken up when you were with previous partners?"

Viktor followed my gaze to the dog sleeping at our feet. "Yes, but if we kick him out, he'll just whine at the door to be let back in. It's pretty distracting."

"I see."

We sat down on the bed, his washed bedding folded up beside us. Viktor's eyes shone in the dim light of the lanterns outside.

"What first?" he asked.

I scratched the back of my head. "Let's uh, make out a little bit."

"Okay," Viktor said, a smile playing on his lips. "Come at me, Yuuri. I'm ready."

End Chapter Four


	5. Chapter 5

Yuuri

I cupped his face and gently brushed my fingertips over to close his eyes. That took some of the pressure off. Awkwardly, I scooted closer, jostling him on the folded futon. I took his hands and placed them on my waist. Then I ran my hands slowly over his chest and stomach and shoulders, familiarizing myself with what it felt like to really touch him. I'd hugged this body so many times, but it was always before a competition skate when I was focused on what I needed to do and seeking support. Viktor moved his hands as well, but only as much as I was, over my stomach and hips and chest, shoulders and arms. It felt so good, I found myself pulling him into a hug, reconnecting with what was normal for us. We pulled apart and I remembered I was supposed to be talking.

"Does that feel okay?" I asked.

Viktor opened his eyes and grinned. "It feels great, Yuuri. Can I keep my eyes open?"

"If I can kiss you," I replied.

"Absolutely."

I cupped his face in both my hands again. When Viktor realized I was coming in for the kiss, he closed his eyes of his own accord.

I kissed him, but his lips were dry. Feeling brave, I traced the tip of my tongue over his lips to wet them. Viktor sucked in a breath and held it, only released when I pulled back for a second.

"Jesus, Yuuri," he whispered.

I leaned in again and kissed him fully this time. Viktor kissed me back eagerly, opening his mouth to me. It took a couple of tries for me to summon the courage to open my mouth. I had been worried Viktor's tongue would immediately jump down my throat, but he waited for me, which gave me the space to explore on my own. I tentatively dipped my tongue in and felt his warm tongue there. Viktor gently lapped my tongue with his, and it felt so funny I laughed into his mouth. Feeling Viktor smiling against me, I knew everything would be alright.

We kissed and touched for several long moments, just enjoying the feel of each other, Viktor letting me explore him.

I sat back from him, not bored, but a little tired emotionally from being so worked up the last few days, and physically from falling so many times on the ice.

"You said you read about hand jobs?" Viktor's voice was husky, his eyes hopeful.

"Yeah."

"Want to give it a try with me?"

"Sure."

We both shucked our shirts off so fast we knocked elbows. Viktor unzipped his pants and kicked them off. I kept my pants on. Viktor sat there in his boxer briefs watching me, anxiously awaiting what would come next.

At Viktor's nod, I ran my hand slowly up his thigh and covered his crotch. I massaged him through his underwear for a few moments until Viktor was panting, his breaths throaty and his hands nervously running up and down my thighs, distracting me. 

"Hey." I grabbed his hands and placed them on my shoulders. "Keep these here. Settle down, now."

Viktor let out an exasperated laugh. "Okay."

I helped Viktor out of his underwear and we slid to the floor, leaning against the bed and sitting on our own laundry. When Viktor got out of the onsen, I had always tried so hard to not look, but now I gazed fully.

I blinked. "You're circumcised."

"Yeah. Are you?"

"No."

"Oh. Nice."

Viktor was only semi-hard, lying flaccid to the side, despite all of his arousal. We were close to the same size, but we sure reacted differently. I was already so hard I felt like I could burst at any moment.

I patted his hands that were on my shoulders, confirming they needed to stay there. Viktor nodded with a shy smile. 

I slid my hand once more up his thigh and cupped him gently. I thought about how I touched myself when I was alone, and did a couple of tentative strokes with my fingertips.

Viktor hissed.

"Is this alright?" I asked.

"Can you do it a little more deliberately? You're tickling me."

"Like this?"

"Not that hard! Ah!"

"Sorry!"

Makkachin whined and kicked in his sleep. Viktor and I froze in horror. The last thing we needed was for the dog to wake up and come over to see what we were doing.

"Show me," I whispered.

Viktor wrapped his hand over mine and guided my fingers up and down. The first couple of times were all the way to the base and back up to the head, then the next few would go only about halfway down before returning again.

"Careful of the tip, my head is really sensitive," Viktor breathed. "Maybe if you used your tongue—"

"Not this time," I interrupted, about to freak out.

"Okay," Viktor panted. "Maybe next time then."

I kept stroking him gently, but not so light as to tickle him. Viktor would help me a little bit and then dutifully return his hands to my shoulders. 

I expected him to keep his eyes closed, but I realized that was me projecting my own shyness. Instead, Viktor would close his eyes for a moment, then scan me. His eyes kept roaming over my bare chest and stomach, my shoulders and neck, even my face. Surely I was so focused on my task that my facial expression wasn't very tantalizing, yet he kept looking all the same. Then he'd close his eyes again and rest his forehead on my collarbone, panting. It was so awesome to know I could affect Viktor this much.

Viktor leaned back against the futon, squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath for a moment, then let it out in one big whoosh. "Can you speed up a bit?"

"Like this?"

"Yeah, ah, yeah that's good."

His breathing got more intense. Viktor guided my hand, watching me in a haze, then whispered "Let me" and I got out of the way while he finished himself. He came into his hand, his breath rushing out in a whoosh. Then I got to hear the most beautiful sighs as he rode the waves and came back down. The sight was so gorgeous I just wanted to stare at him, like he was a painting. Viktor and I watched each other for a long moment, no words necessary.

I grabbed some tissues and handed them to him. Viktor wiped himself off and then pulled me into a big hug. I was hot and bothered from being so turned on, but Viktor's hug was so grateful, I treasured it.

"That was so good. Thank you honey," Viktor said.

I gaped. Honey?

"Your turn."

I sat back and shook my head. "I can't handle any more tonight. Could you please give me a moment to myself? Then we can take a bath together."

"What?" Viktor's face was shocked, then bummed. "Let me help! Why do I have to go away? At least let me stay with you. I can keep my hands off if you like."

I shook my head again. "Next time. Go now."

Viktor huffed, dejected. He sat there a few seconds to see if I would change my mind. When I didn't, he kissed my forehead, threw on a robe, roused the dog and left.

I rolled to the floor and tucked my head against the tatami to muffle my gasps. I was so stimulated from touching Viktor that I ached. I hated being in that narrow window between deprivation and overstimulation. That was why I couldn't afford to have Viktor help or watch this time.

I closed my eyes. Imagining all the things I might get to do with Viktor in the near future was arousing, but what touched deeper was seeing my competitive dreams fulfilled while also holding onto such a brilliant coach, and if my wishes came true, my life partner. Having it all. I saw me standing on the center podium at the Grand Prix, Worlds, the Olympics, with Viktor by my side…

In only a couple of minutes I came.

The house was quiet. After cleaning up, I tiptoed down the hallway, only now mortified at the prospect of my family having potentially heard us. I found Viktor in my room, cuddled up in bed with the dog. Viktor looked up at me, still just as dejected as when he'd left earlier. "I didn't get to hear Yuuri's cries."

"My cries?" I balked. "I jizz like a man."

Viktor's jaw fell.

I held my hand out to him. "Bath and then sleep."

"You don't want to stay up and drink?" he asked. "We haven't really celebrated your silver at the Grand Prix, and I just got back."

"No time," I said. "My coach is back. I'm hitting the rink in the morning. Now come, bath time."

Viktor grinned his wicked grin. "Yes sir."

End Chapter Five


	6. Chapter 6

Viktor

I woke up the next morning alone in Yuuri's bed. Makkachin snored in my face. I yawned and stretched. Our shenanigans last night had been so awesome. Maybe tonight I would get a repeat performance.

Then thoughts from last night and early this morning flooded back to me and I shot up, checking my hands and getting confirmation that it wasn't a dream.

While I'd slept, sometime early this morning, Yuuri had knelt in front of me and taken both of my hands. If memory served, though it was hazy, pale dawn light had been coming in around the curtains while Yuuri closed his eyes and kissed my knuckles. Then he took the golden ring he'd given me in Barcelona off my right hand ring finger and transferred it to my left hand ring finger. I held up my left hand and examined it. What a coward, Yuuri, to do this while I was not awake. Even still, the ring looked nice there. My emotions were doing backflips over it. It really felt like I'd gotten engaged, but I knew if I let myself believe that, I'd be met with disappointment and insecurity.

I fell back down to the pillows and curled up around my left hand, holding my ring to my chest to keep it close. When had the two of us become such cowards? Buying the rings in Barcelona had been such a rash decision, and yet whenever Yuuri sprinted ahead and did something crazy, I found my emotions rushing along behind, eagerly racing to catch up. It was ridiculous to think we knew each other well enough to get engaged after only eight months of training together, but my heart sang for joy when I thought about it.

Yuuri was the person a year ago who had begged me in a drunken haze to become his coach. Yuuri was the one who'd swept me off my feet that night, as silly as it sounds. There had been an aching void opening up in my life—the question of whether I would keep skating until injury finally took me out of the sport. The question of whether coming out on the top of the world for five, even ten years, would crush the hopes of those trying to compete with me. Only Yurio saw me as a human that could be surpassed. More and more, it felt like other young skaters were viewing me as a goal, not a stepping stone; as a god, not a fellow competitor, but I was no Yuzuru Hanyu. That night, without ever expecting it, I'd had my questions answered by Katsuki Yuuri, boozed-up and half-naked.

But in just eight months, I'd had my records broken. It was time to return to the ice. By changing my gold ring over, Yuuri was making all of this so much harder than it needed to be.

What if you were brave, Viktor? I asked myself. What would that look like?

I squeezed my eyes shut and dared to dream.

I had to return to Russia to train with Yukov for nationals. Yuuri could find another coach. We'd each visit the other as support for nationals in our own countries, and the Four Continents, and we could share a hotel room at Worlds and the Olympics. I had the money to visit him every now and then, and Yuuri was such a natural at modeling; if he just kept it up he'd have the money to visit me too…

Even with all that effort in visiting each other, my plan still felt so lonely. How could I return to the ice when I hurt like this? Couldn't Yuuri and I talk, and then after the Olympics just get married? Maybe if one of our competitions was held in America, or Canada, we could do it there…

I launched the covers across the room and flew out of bed, startling Makkachin. For better or for worse, there was no rest for the wicked, and Yuuri was already out there on the ice. Maybe I didn't need a coach. Maybe I could just stay here with Yuuri.

On the jog to the rink, my thoughts again returned to the longing I'd felt for some time to have a secure, stable partner, and what it would feel like if that person were Yuuri.

I arrived at the rink to find someone else on the ice with Yuuri. Yuko appeared beside me, the triplets in tow.

"Viktor!" Yuko chirped. "Welcome home! I mean, welcome back, haha!"

"Hey guys," I managed. How easily her statement broke my heart.

"Did you know Eliza-sensei was coming today?" Yuko asked.

"Who?"

"The Gay Games sent you guys a coach for your opening performance," Yuko explained.

Holy shit. I strapped my skates on and hurried onto the ice.

"Viktor Nikoforov! You're finally here," Eliza yelled in a thick accent (Dutch? German?) as I approached. "I was having Yuuri do lifts with me until you got here."

I apologized and properly introduced myself. Yuuri was panting like mad, his face flushed and sweaty, yet when I locked eyes with him, he was on fire for this challenge. In that moment, all of my worries flew away.

That was apparently all the introduction I was going to get.

"Do you remember the routine, Yuuri?" Eliza asked. Yuuri nodded.

"Let's show Viktor," was all she said before taking off to the center of the rink.

Without a glance toward me, Yuuri followed.

They ran through what was probably a four-minute routine, though at half-pace. Eliza counted out each phrase and Yuuri dutifully flowed with her through step sequences and shared spins. My body recalled skating with Yuuri two weeks ago in the Grand Prix exhibition and I longed to join them.

Yuuri lifted Eliza, first just a chest lift and then one that had added steps to it, maybe a potential head lift. Then to my surprise, Eliza lifted Yuuri in the air like it was nothing.

I gaped. Yuuri was not light! Sure, he was a couple centimeters shorter than me, but he was solid muscle under those clothes. I'd have to work hard to make it look as easy as Eliza was now.

A final death spiral, with Yuuri anchoring Eliza, which meant I would get to spin this time. They finished in a dramatic pose, with Yuuri holding Eliza possessively from behind. I clapped. I was going to like that.

Yuko and the triplets joined me in applause as the two returned to the side of the rink. Yuuri looked exhausted, but Eliza was barely fazed. She was a true pro.

"This is gonna be so cool," Yuuri said, hands on his knees to catch his breath. "I need to do strength training for my chest and back and arms."

"When are the Gay Games again?" I asked Eliza.

"Three weeks from today," she said.

"That's perfect timing. I'll leave afterwards to start training for nationals." Most skaters were taking a break now anyways, or working on backup skills like ballet and swimming to give their bodies a break.

Eliza frowned down at Yuuri, who was diligently avoiding looking at me. "You guys are separating after this? That's sad."

I scratched the back of my head. "It was nice of the Gay Games to send us a coach for this. We were just planning to use Yuuri's exhibition piece from the Grand Prix."

"You two have so many more ways to capitalize on each other's strengths," Eliza insisted. "I wrote your routine on the flight over, after watching you both skate on the plane. As a coach, this is a really fun opportunity. Plus, my skaters are abroad for their honeymoon, so I wasn't working this month anyways."

Yuuri's head snapped up at that.

"Are your skaters gay?" I asked, assuming that was Yuuri's question too.

"Lesbian." She grabbed her phone and pulled up a video to show us. Yuuri and I watched as two female skaters performed a free skate.

"We can do so much more in the Gay Games than in ISU competitions," Eliza explained. "May and Deb are probably good enough to compete in ISU, but they would never agree to being separated. The ISU should just let same-sex couples compete."

Yuuri and I said nothing.

"That way you two could compete together after you retire from competitive individual skating."

Yuuri leaned against me, seeking comfort as we watched Deb and May skate. I pulled up his left hand and kissed his knuckles. He'd moved his own ring over too.

The performance was beautiful, but I was glad when Deb and May finished their skate. It was a dream Yuuri and I couldn't afford to have.

We practiced together until lunchtime, and after a quick bite returned to the ice. Eliza was fading, still jet lagged from the European time difference.

"Why don't you guys listen to the song, then I'll see you tomorrow," she suggested. "This was written by an artist-activist, a Taiwanese American instrumental in legalization in Taiwan."

I took Yuuri's hand, our fingers entwined loosely, and looped the rink lazily as the music started.

End Chapter Six


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Vienna Teng's excellent song Gravity!

Viktor

I took Yuuri's hand, our fingers entwined loosely, and looped the rink lazily as the music started.

A couple of frames in, Yuuri gasped and stopped, whipping around to stare at Eliza across the rink.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Do you know this song?"

"This Vienna Teng," Yuuri said in reply.

I stood there while Yuuri stared off into another world. He finally started skating again and I followed suit.

"She sings mostly in English," he said. 

Then right as a woman's voice sang out overhead, Yuuri met her toe to toe.

Hey love,  
Is that the name you're meant to have,  
For me to call?

I gaped at him. "Yuuri, you can sing! How did I not know that?"

Yuuri brushed off the compliment. "Only when the music's loud enough to drown me out."

He sped up, and I followed him, eager to hear his voice even though he was just humming along to the lines he didn't know. Then Yuuri sang again.

Hey love,  
That's the name we've long held back,  
From the core of truth.

Yuuri pressed into the ice and I swung wide, giving him room to skate as he liked. At first I thought Yuuri was working through where Eliza's choreography fit with the music, but then I realized he was just moving, inspired. Seeing this Yuuri, so bright and free, did a number on me. Eight months ago, if I had known, I would have told him to listen to music like this to find his muse, instead of imagining a katsudon.

It was captivating.

Yuuri spun in the center of the rink and I followed a loose orbit, content to watch him shine.

Yuuri came out of the spin and whipped around as if looking for me. We locked eyes and I quirked my eyebrows at him in question. Did he want me to come near? 

Yuuri extended his hand toward me, in a gesture that reminded me of his closing pose for his free skate. Captured, all I could do was slow to a stop as Yuuri grabbed my hands and pulled me into a two-arm pair spin and sang.

Hey love,  
I am a constant satellite,  
Of your blazing sun.

I stood arrested as the artist completed my next thought: My love, I'll obey the law of gravity.

The moment passing, Yuuri's confidence faded.

I held my arms out, the way I always did after Yuuri skated. Time to come back to me, and we'll go to the kiss and cry.

Yuuri's features changed from shyness to a contented smile. He skated right into my arms. I felt more than heard Yuuri humming the rest of the lines, his chest rumbling against mine.

Silence reigned over the rink, but I could hear Yuuri breathing, and that was my whole world.

"I'm going to go sleep before I get any more cavities from that!" Eliza shouted.

Yuuri jerked out of my arms, his expression mortified. I laughed and laughed.

#

That afternoon, we practiced until our arms were so tired we were worried about dropping each other. Ultimately, having a shared coach, and one so spunky as Eliza (if she was that energetic while jet-lagged, I couldn't wait to see the real thing) was so inspiring that I didn't want to quit. It had been a while since skating was this fun.

I finally summoned my courage.

"Care if we take the long way home?" I asked. "We could stop at the shore and talk for a little bit."

We walked along the coastline as the sun set. We sat down at the same spot where we had talked about our priorities months ago.

Yuuri sat next to me, but with just enough room between us that we weren't really close.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

I reached over and took his left hand and held it up to indicate his ring. Yuuri blushed and looked away. I wondered what that meant, but now was the time for me to be brave.

"I know we said in Barcelona that we would each make our own separate decisions, but I really want to include you in my decision," I said.

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows. "What you do for your career has nothing to do with me. I'd never accept it if I ended up holding you back."

"Why do you think you're holding me back?"

"Keeping you on as my coach would gradually kill you as a competitive skater."

"Yuuri, injuries gradually kill you as a competitive skater. That's why the ISU needs to cap the difficulty of jumps so everyone doesn't try to reach Yuzuru Hanyu and tear their bodies apart."

Yuuri blinked at me. "But you're not injured."

"No, but I have been, many times. This last year, I was thinking about whether or not to retire, or take a year off, because I was so tired of being in pain."

The look Yuuri gave me was completely devastated.

I pressed onward. "Taking off this Grand Prix series, plus getting in an onsen every night, has really helped me physically. I've slept better than I ever have, spent more time with Makkachin, and with you."

Yuuri leaned over just enough to bump shoulders with me.

"With all that has happened in the last eight months, I know that I not only can return to the ice, but that I'll be a different person when I do. A stronger, more well-rounded person."

"Maybe if you continue to get in the onsen after practice each day, you won't be in pain," Yuuri suggested.

I laughed and bumped our shoulders again. "That's what you're thinking about? Don't worry about stuff like that."

"But you said you were considering retiring because of chronic pain."

"It's my body. I'll know when enough is enough."

"Okay."

We watched the waves lap at the shore, waves so much smaller due to the cement breakers a distance out to weaken tsunamis making their way in.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Yuuri asked.

I huffed, held my left hand out to him and glared, demanding an explanation.

Yuuri blushed all the way up to the tops of his ears. He looked at me, then down at the ring, back and forth.

"Do you want to be engaged to be married?" I demanded.

"D-don't you think it's too soon?" Yuuri stammered.

"Yes, I think it's too soon," I snapped.

Yuuri rubbed his palms back and forth across his thighs and ducked his head. "B-but I really love you, Viktor. I'm not joking around when I say that. I want you to marry me, so I can be with you till I'm dead, or something. O-or until you get unhappy and want to leave. I wouldn't have you stay if you were sad."

This was derailing. "I don't want to be wishy-washy about this, Yuuri. My life is so public I can't afford to let the skating media have a field day over something like this."

"Are you saying you'll be more comfortable if you move the ring back?" Yuuri asked.

I hesitated.

"Because I'll prove it to you," Yuuri said in a rush. "I'll love you for the rest of your life. I'll take care of you, Viktor, and I'll win gold to prove that to you."

I watched the ocean waves go out and come back in. "I'll hold you to that, Yuuri. I believe you can win any gold you want."

Yuuri took my hand and held it in both of his. "So you'll leave the ring where it is? On your left hand?"

I smiled at the raw hope in Yuuri's eyes. "Yeah."

He laid his head on my shoulder and we watched the sky turn colors with the sunset.

Yuuri cleared his throat. "I, um, I want to practice what we worked on last night."

I touched my cheek to Yuuri's hair. "You mean hand jobs?"

Yuuri jerked in surprise. "Y-yeah. I stayed up most of the night reading about it after you fell asleep."

He'd lifted Eliza all morning, then lifted me all afternoon, on almost no rest. And here I was exhausted. 

"Are you ready to let me practice on you too?" I asked. Practice, yeah right. I was going to enjoy this.

"Yeah," Yuuri curled in closer to me, hiding his face. "I just, I'm not sure I can, well…"

I gave him a minute to pick that back up, but he didn't.

I took a stab in the dark. "Are you worried about finishing with me there? It's totally understandable for that to take some time. Sex has its own performance jitters, though I hope you know you don't need to worry about that with me. Just let me stay until the last moment you can stand, instead of kicking me out first. Deal?"

Yuuri stood and held his hand down to me, gold ring shining in the sunset. He was blushing furiously, but had a determined look in his eyes. "Let's go home, Viktor."

I took Yuuri's hand. "Yeah."

End Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Vienna Teng's lovely song Gravity!

_Viktor_

_Three weeks later_

 Yuuri's home rink didn't have a broadcasting screen, so the film crew kept us updated on the opening ceremony leading up to our skate. They were trying to get it broadcast over the speakers at least, but Yuuri had declined. I wished I could see all the stuff going on at the stadium in Taipei. The assistants watching it were pretty intrigued, in a good way. Yuuri and I could get into the zone without all the noise.

 "Two minute warning," a crewman called. "They've signaled they'll cue us after this commercial break."

 Without words, Yuuri and I got into our starting pose, me standing behind him, my arms wrapped around him, Yuuri leaning against me lovingly. It was the perfect starting pose for something like the Gay Games.

 --

_"Viktor, you always hold him like you're about to be forcibly separated," Eliza had remarked back when we were exploring poses three weeks ago._

_I'd given her a pained look, avoiding Yuuri's eyes and thinking That's because we are._

_She'd crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head at the two of us. "You don't understand the purpose of the Gay Games at all. It's about choosing happiness in your life, about being yourself and celebrating that with others. Holland has had legalized marriage longer than you two have been alive, so it's easy for me to take that for granted. In Japan and Russia, you don't have the same legal protections, sure, but it's almost like you two want each other to suffer."_

_Yuuri had hitched his breath at that. I'd glared at her._

_She'd met me toe to toe. "If you respect your partner, you'd find a way to be together. You wouldn't leave your partner unsupported and alone."_

_\--_

 Now, three weeks later, I held my Yuuri in my arms.

 Static came through the speakers over by the film crew. Something was read in Chinese, and then the English followed, announcing us. The applause almost drowned out the announcer.

 "Say something," Yuuri said frantically, his breathing speeding up.

 "I believe in you, Yuuri."

 "Okay."

 The music started.

 Yuuri spun around in my arms to face me. We pressed together as if our foreheads might touch. I couldn't help but smile. I was performing with Yuuri, and although we were alone in Hasetsu, there was an entire stadium in Taipei watching us. This was the thrill I'd gradually lost in so many years of competing, but now with Yuuri it all came rushing back. We were going to crush it.

_Hey love,_

_Is that the name you're meant to have,_

_For me to call?_

 Yuuri and I pushed out and circled each other, fanning wide and gaining momentum. We spread to get more room and jumped. I felt my body fly. I nailed the double axel, and from the look on Yuuri's face, he had too. We'd wanted to jump for this, but Eliza had wisely advised us to downgrade everything. The last thing we needed was to get injured in an exhibition piece. Yuuri and I came together and fell into our choreographed dance sequence. It had been much harder to learn than I had anticipated. After Eliza left a week ago, her skaters back from their honeymoon and requiring their coach again, Yuuri and I had drilled this dance sequence nonstop.

 Finally through it, I grabbed Yuuri's arm and connected in our shared spin, then split apart and rotated into our back spins. The speakers overhead kept cutting in and out with the buzz of the audience on top of our music. It was weird to be performing and not hear the audience react to our jumps, but the cutting in and out was distracting.

 Yuuri skated toward me and I forgot everything else. Simultaneous double toe loop.

_Hey love,_

_That's the name we've long held back,_

_From the core of truth._

 Yuuri's stamina allowed for the lifts in the second half, after two jumps already, but this was the part that really got me panting. Yuuri chest-lifted me, into a glide. Then I threw Yuuri into a triple flip and his eyes shone with determination when he nailed it. Jesus Christ, Yuuri. You're evolving again, right when I'm about to leave. I'm going to miss it.

 Suddenly insecure, I skated toward Yuuri and he grabbed my waist so hard I gasped. My knee to his thigh, hand to his hand, and then up. Yuuri pushed me into a head lift, and this time the crackling bites of sound from the audience went absolutely nuts. Yuuri hadn't felt comfortable being lifted, and had diligently worked on weights after practice each night with Eliza in order to be able to lift me. At first it was indeed terrifying, but Yuuri had worked so hard at it, I trusted in his strength.

 After an eternity in the air, my arms trembling, Yuuri set me down and we sped across the ice and into twin glides. Yuuri and I both idolized Michelle Kwan growing up, so we decided to do her signature edge spiral, forever and ever across the ice.

_Hey love,_

_I am a constant satellite,_

_Of your blazing sun._

_My love,_

_I obey your law of gravity._

 Back in the center of the rink, Yuuri took my hands and we swung into the final sequence, our death spiral. I slid my skates out, past the point where I could save myself, and Yuuri held me strong, centering me, keeping me from hitting the ice.

_This is the fate you've carved on me._

_On me._

 Yuuri pulled me up and we spun around each other into a big hug, both of us completely forgetting about our final pose.

 I cried into Yuuri's shoulder. The speakers overhead roared so loud I could barely hear myself think.

 "That's it!" Yuuri yelled through the noise.

 I held him tight. _No, don't let this be over yet._

 "I'm going to miss you, Yuuri!" I cried.

 "I know!"

 "Your skating… I'm going to miss being by your side! Your body—"

 " _I know!!_ "

 I felt hot tears against my neck and it ripped me apart at the seams. I only realized that the broadcast had ended when I noticed I could hear us both choking back our sobs.

 "That's a wrap!" The head camerawoman shouted at us.

 Yuuri and I both scrubbed our eyes. Holding hands, we left the ice.

 "Did you not hear them beckoning you to bow?" the camera woman asked, a smirk on her lips.

 Oh. We'd just hugged at the end and ignored the audience. Oops.

 "No regrets," Yuuri said.

 That made everyone laugh.

 We thanked the film crew and let them go ahead to the onsen. Yuuri indicated that he wanted to walk home with me. That meant he wanted to talk. Tired, I undid my skates in silence, immersed in my thoughts and everything I had to do tomorrow before I caught my flight.

 Shoes stepped into my line of sight. I'd been sitting staring off into space.

 Yuuri smiled at me, extending his hand. "Shall we go?"

 I was too tired, both physically and emotionally, for any deep conversation tonight. Yuuri and I took the side streets home and didn't stop by the beach. We'd had to stay up for Taiwan's time zone; even though Taipei was only an hour behind us, it was already the middle of the night.

 We turned the corner and saw his family's onsen up ahead, what had been my and Makkachin's home for the last nine months. While we were still out of earshot of the house, Yuuri pulled me to a stop and faced me full on.

 I sighed. Too much, it was just too much. I couldn't handle anything. I was too overwhelmed by this vibrant love in my life, shiny and new. Having to leave it behind tomorrow was so painful. We didn't know if our separation would cause this new bright light to fade away, our love to wither and rot, or if to protect ourselves from the pain we would both withdraw, and kill it that way instead.

 Yuuri raised my hand up and kissed my ring. "There is a promise that I want from you."

 "Anything." My voice sounded as exhausted as I felt. "Just ask it."

 Yuuri looked at me with so much love in his eyes I could feel it radiating off of him.

 "Promise me," he said, kissing each of my knuckles. "When we've skated as long as we can; when our bodies are broken and we can't compete anymore, skate with me in the Gay Games."

 I closed my eyes to the pain, too tired to even cry. "Yeah. Let's do that."

 Yuuri let our hands fall, fingers still intertwined. "Thank you, Viktor. That means the world to me."

 We walked silently the rest of the way to the house. We got in the bath, soaking in the moonlight and enjoying our last few hours together.

 Too tired to explore each other's bodies tonight, we curled up in bed together and fell asleep in minutes. If things didn't work out, if we grew apart, this might be the last time I get to sleep spooned around Yuuri. I would have treasured that last night, but instead I fell into a deep rest, the kind I was only ever able to get at the little onsen in Hasetsu.

End Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Viktor

My alarm woke me bright and early the next morning. Yuuri was sleeping so heavily his breathing almost lulled me back to sleep. I slipped out of his bed and pulled the covers back up, tiptoeing around the room to grab my duffel bag. The Katsuki's would be sending the rest of my stuff back to Russia once I had an apartment. I would be staying at Yurio's until I could find a place. Yurio's lovely demeanor would be ample motivation for apartment hunting.

Makkachin was snuggled up to Yuuri, and so intent on remaining asleep that I had to pick him up and carry him out of the house. Only Mr. Katsuki was already awake to see me off, calling a taxi for me and giving me a wrapped bento that Mrs. Katsuki had made for me to eat at the airport. I shut the door to the taxi quietly, praying that Yuuri would stay asleep and not startle awake at the last second to realize my betrayal.

The was the only way I could handle saying goodbye.

#

Yuuri

"Mom!" I ran down the hallway and slid to a stop in my socks. "Where's Viktor? Where's Makkachin?"

"Oh honey," my mom said, a tray of food for a customer in her hands. "He left hours ago."

I stared at the entryway as Mom returned to work. I sank to the floor right where I stood and stared at the door. He hadn't said goodbye. He hadn't bothered to even wake me.

Dad passed through on the way to something and patted my shoulder in empathy. No guests came through the door, but that was a good thing because I was sitting there heartbroken.

"Yuuri."

I hadn't noticed my sister standing next to me. "Yeah?"

"Help me clean the womens' bath."

That roused me. "I have to get to training."

"Why don't you at least make yourself useful while you're sulking?"

I glared up at my older sister. "He didn't even say goodbye to me!"

She quirked an eyebrow at me. "And? If that doesn't motivate you to overtake him in skating, then what does? Either help me with the bath or get out of here."

I recoiled. "Sis, you're so mean…"

Mari-neechan grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted me up into her face. "He's not dead, Yuuri. He's just gone back to Russia. Dasvadania. Get over it."

She let me go and I sunk back to the floor, incensed. That at least got me out of the house.

I jogged over to the Ice Castle.

Yuko was unlocking the shoe lockers. "Yuuri?"

I walked up to the counter. "Can I borrow your husband?"

"The one and only!" Nishigori stepped out from one of the back storage rooms. He and Yuko exchanged looks. "What can I do for you, Yuuri?"

I locked eyes with him. "Can we go for a run?"

#

Without talking, Nishigori and I ran along the coastline for a couple of kilometers, then angled into town when the coastline met with the trees. Whenever Nishigori asked if I wanted to scale back, I told him to keep going. We ran all the way around town, what his cell phone clocked as ten kilometers, and even then I couldn't get the loneliness pressing into my sternum to let up.

I dropped Nishigori back off at Ice Castle. "Are you going home?" he asked. "Free skate's still on for another four hours."

I nodded. "Call me if you guys close up early. I want to skate today."

"Good god." Nishigori shook his head like a sweaty sheep dog. "How can you skate after running me all over town? You're unstoppable, man."

I'm running from the darkness that's chasing me, I wanted to say. "I'll be back later."

Mom fed me a comfort lunch: huge katsudon and ice cream. It was so heavy I passed out after and woke up around when the free skate ended. At least I'd had a couple of hours unconscious. It made it easier to fight back tears.

I walked to Ice Castle this time. My legs really were tired from running all morning. But I felt like if I slowed down and stopped, I'd never be able to get up and keep going again. It felt like my feet were cement blocks.

When I got back to Ice Castle, I could tell from the look on Yuko's face that Nishigori had told her about this morning, how I'd insisted on running myself into the ground, and how, clearly, everything was not as okay as I wished I could make it look. The triplets were quiet for once, watching me like I was a wild animal that might do something unpredictable. Unstable.

"I'm sorry for worrying everyone," I said, and I meant it.

Nishigori gave a sad smile.

"You here to skate Yuuri?" Yuko asked.

I nodded.

Nishigori clapped me on the shoulder. "Go ahead. I'll make sure no one comes in. Can Yuko and the girls join you?"

I read into that question: they wanted to make sure I didn't push myself too hard. I'd never injured myself while skating before, but I'd also never been this emotionally distraught before, except when I'd heard that Vic-chan died.

"I'd love it if you joined me," I said. "Thank you, for everything."

#

I would need a new exhibition piece.

I twirled around on the ice, trying to think of any lines of melody that spoke to me, any choreography that my body longed to express. I wouldn't be able to practice my pairs routine with Viktor now that he was gone. That was the end of our short-lived routine with Hanarezuni soba ni ite. Time to retire that, along with so many other things.

I thought about my despair a month ago while Viktor was caught up with things at the consulate in Vladivostok and marveled how quickly I got over it and returned to skating. As shallow as it would make me, I hoped I got over Viktor this time too. Better to take the path with the least pain. I could handle being alone. It was definitely preferable to love and loss, because seriously, fuck this. I eventually decided to work on technique instead, unable to come up with anything creative. This was why I would have Coach Celestino decide my routines for me. Maybe I would go visit Phichit-kun in Bangkok and train with him for a while, try to get my inspiration back.

Okay, gotta work on technique, so jumps. A double toe loop shouldn't be too hard—

I totally biffed it.

"Yuuri!!"

Four voices screamed my name. Yuko and her triplets were at the rinkside watching me as if they were my coach now. 

"No jumps today, Yuuri," Yuko said as neutrally as she could manage, I was sure, but since I knew her I could still hear the concern in her voice. "How about spins and footwork today?"

I picked myself up from the ice, not really wanting an audience. If Yuko weren't here, though, I would just keep sulking. 

Okay, technique. I ran through the footwork and spins in my short program, then my free program, but without someone coaching me, I didn't have anyone to point out something they thought was sloppy. I could tell sometimes on my own, but often unless I had a video playback, I couldn't tell if I was making a mistake. I wanted Viktor to yell at me...

Let's just work out then. I'll run through my routines without the jumps until I'm good and exhausted and can go home and just pass out again. Sweet darkness. Maybe that would be my exhibition theme. Now I was just being dramatic.

I was on my fifth cycle through my routines when Yuko pounded on the barricade and yelled at me to stop. I spun out and looked over at her.

Yuko's face was streaked with tears. "Come here!"

Now I was in for it. I skated over to my best friend.

Up close, Yuko was furious, but when I got to her, she wrapped me in a big hug over the barrier. We stayed there for a long time. 

"I know just the thing," Yuko said when we pulled apart.

"Hit me with it," I said, trying to smile.

She looked down at the triplets and gave them a wink. Axel, Loop and Lutz simultaneously gasped and whipped out their phones. In no time, three phones were turned toward me, playing the Youtube video of me skating Viktor's free program from last year. It was the same video that went viral and convinced Viktor to be my coach. 

I locked eyes with Yuko, my heart ripped open. "I'm not sure I've got it in me today."

"You do, Yuuri," Yuko said. "I know you do."

I begged her with my eyes to not make me do this. She didn't back down. I heaved a giant sigh and made up my mind.

"I've got to warm up first." I was exhausted, both physically and spiritually, but something told me this was the perfect thing to do right now. It was the only thing I could do. 

I pointed at the triplets and watched their eyes get as big as dinner plates. "I want a good video of this."

"Hai!!"

After I warmed up, I skated to the center of the rink and waited. Yuko queued up the music. The music started, and I lifted my gaze to the ceiling.

This is my goodbye to you, Viktor.

End Chapter Nine


	10. Chapter 10

Viktor

I pushed open the door to Ice Castle to hear Hanarezuni soba ni ite playing. No one was up front, so I walked through to the side hallway and watched Yuuri skate. Italian was not a language I knew, and the Japanese was beautiful, but I remembered the translated version read to me back when I chose this song.

A crying voice in the distance  
Have you been abandoned?  
Here, I'll drink down this wine  
And we'll begin preparations  
For now, please be silent  
With a sword I wish to slash the throat that sings of love  
To freeze the hand that composes poems of affection  
This story has no meaning  
Together with the stars, snuffed out of the night  
If I am but able to see you again  
These wishes would be born for eternity  
Do not leave, stay at my side  
I'm scared of nothing but of losing you  
Your hands and feet, my hands and feet  
Our pulses combined  
To depart, to embark  
I am ready

Yuuri's eyes were puffy from crying, as were mine. 

#

Yuuri

I skated the routine with everything I had. 

Yuko and the triplets screamed their support. I skated back to Yuko and hugged her again. I was too winded to cry, but I could feel her shoulders shaking. 

"Thank you," I told her.

Yuko stiffened in my arms.

My elation evaporated. "Oh, sorry, am I squeezing too hard—"

"Yuuri, look."

Yuko was staring over my shoulder, her tears stopped and eyes wide.

I turned around to see Viktor standing at the entrance.

#

Viktor

I watched as Yuuri froze, and then in visible disbelief, skated across the rink over to me. As he got closer, my happiness dissipated and insecurity tucked a clenched fist up under my rib cage, stifling my breath. 

Yuuri pulled up in front of me, his eyebrows screwed up in question. He didn't say anything to me.

"I—" I started. "Um."

"What are you doing here?" Yuuri whispered, still panting from his performance.

"Can I stay until my visa runs out?" I blurted. "I got all the way to Tokyo and couldn't stand it. I canceled my ticket and booked a flight right back."

"When does your visa run out?" Yuuri asked.

What did that tone mean? "I've still got nine weeks on it. It ends right before nationals anyways."

Yuuri's expression turned blissful. "That's a lot of time."

"And listen, Yuuri." I put my hand up on the barricade, wishing Yuuri were closer so I could touch him. "I called Yakov at the airport. He agreed that if I return, that he would coach you as well."

Yuuri's face fell, his eyes searching my face.

"What?" I asked. 

Yuuri ran a hand through his hair and huffed. "Viktor..." He shook his head.

My stomach flopped so hard I felt like I might vomit. Was this it? Was Yuuri calling an end to this? What about his ring?

He looked me right in the eyes, and I saw defiance there. "It's illegal in Russia to be gay, right? Why would I want to live somewhere that my love is literally banned?"

"Yuuri..."

He sighed and looked away. "I can't speak Russian, Viktor. Plus, Yakov's English is abysmal. I would be a distraction for you when you need to focus on your training, and I would have nothing going for me there besides the spare moments I would get with you."

My eyes filled with tears. "Yuuri." Don't do this.

"I won't go with you, Viktor," Yuuri said softly. "I belong here."

I choked on a sob and covered my mouth.

"You're welcome here," Yuuri continued, "for as long as you choose to stay."

I clenched my jaw and stamped my foot like a petulant child. "Yuuri, come to Russia with me! Don't make me return alone!"

Yuuri deflated. "Viktor..."

I simply begged him. I was exhausted. I'd been through a whole roller coaster today, from Hasetsu all the way to Tokyo and back, with my dog, calling my coach. I was just spent. And after all of that, Yuuri was refusing me like my request was nothing.

Yuuri opened the door in the banister and stepped off the rink. Though he was a couple centimeters shorter than me, Yuuri had no problem making me feel small, in good ways and bad. 

His eyes locked with mine, Yuuri stepped right into my space and cupped my face in his hands.

His kiss was soft and gentle. It was exactly what I needed. I closed my eyes and pushed Yuuri's words out of my mind, just pretended that Yuuri would stay by my side.

When Yuuri finally pulled apart, he looked around.

"Makkachin's back at the house," I said.

Yuuri's smile said that I'd read his mind. 

Yuuri looped his hand in mine, using me for balance to re-sheath his skates. "Let's go home, babe. We'll figure it out."

"Okay"

#

Yuuri

My relief at Viktor returning to me was palpable. My family was ready to celebrate when we got back, with hearty food and plenty of alcohol. We had fun for a little while, but I could see Viktor fading fast, and I myself was crashing from what I'd put my body through today, so we retired early. 

We got in the onsen and Viktor nearly passed out against me. 

"Oi, hora, let's get out," I said.

Viktor groaned against my shoulder. "I'm emotionally gone. I'm so tired, Yuuri."

Yeah, tell me about it.

"Who knew love was this much trouble?" Viktor said.

"Hai, hai. I'm sorry to always trouble you," I mumbled, stepping out of the bath and tugging on his arm to get up.

Viktor's arms and legs were shaking as he crawled onto the stones. "I was never this torn up about the women I dated."

I blinked at that. Was I his first man? 

Viktor rambled on. "I just, I just *need* you, Yuuri. You have to take responsibility for this."

"I'll take responsibility," I said, toweling him off while he just stood here. It was probably all he could do to not fall over.

"No you won't," Viktor grumbled. "If you took responsibility for it then you'd stay with me." 

Who knew the infamous Viktor Nikiforov could be such a whiny baby? Oh wait, probably anyone he's ever dated...

I got Viktor's yukata on him and pushed him into my bed while I finished toweling off my hair. Viktor watched me blearily.

"You know," I tried to reason with him. "We could be gay here, in Hasetsu. It's a small town in the countryside, and these people would surely think that the dashing foreigner corrupted me, rather than a Japanese boy realizing he's gay on his own, but they would leave us alone. We're both famous, and we've brought business to this town. Just us being normal and visible would go a long way to showing kids that it's okay to be whoever you are, and that you don't have to escape to Tokyo or San Francisco before you can be happy. We could be happy here, and have the rink to ourselves so much of the time. You could learn Japanese, more than just how to order drinks..."

Viktor's eyes hadn't opened in a while. I leaned over and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, but that didn't rouse him. I sighed and climbed into bed. 

I tucked my arm under my head and watched Viktor sleep. He was such a strong athlete, and yet today's ordeal had totally drained him. 

Sighing for the millionth time, I tried out the scenario of me moving to Russia with Viktor. I owed him that much, to at least consider it.

It was the first time I'd thought about it. I'd actually been reading about St. Petersburg ever since Viktor told me at the Grand Prix Finals that he planned to return to competition. I'd also been reading about the Russian gay propaganda act of 2013, and all of the hate crimes against LGBT people in Russia that were basically vindicated with this legislation. If you were gay in Russia, you had to keep it a secret except for the most private circles, all for your own personal safety. 

Viktor had kissed me on worldwide television...

I just couldn't see how we could escape that. That, and I wouldn't know what people were saying around me in public, if there were any slurs happening that could cue me to get out of there. Unless it came across in tone, I would be wandering blind into hostile territory, with a big target on my back.

Viktor at least would know what people were saying about him...

Viktor rolled over and the blanket slipped down his chest. His yukata was already pulled open. I tucked the blanket back up around him and tugged his yukata closed so he didn't get cold. 

I did understand what Viktor had said earlier, how now that we had acknowledged our feelings it actually made everything harder instead of easier. Now was the cute and fluffy phase, where we were supposed to simply enjoy each other and spend time together. Instead, we were separating, trying to make something last long distance that wasn't even really a thing yet. Such a distance, and what we would have to do in order to emotionally protect ourselves, was enough to end any relationship. I just didn't see why Viktor banked all of his success on his coach instead of on himself. 

Viktor mumbled something in his sleep. I kissed his temple and closed my eyes.

End Chapter Ten


	11. Chapter 11

Yuuri

The next morning I returned to the ice bright and early, sore but well rested. Yuko popped in every now and then to check on me while she and Nishigori got the Ice Castle ready for the business day. I warmed up completely, then practiced my routines again.

Viktor joined me at the rink an hour or so later, scrubbing at his eyes but otherwise okay. He watched what I was doing and then quietly took his own half of the rink. I circled in tight to take the other half, and we skated without speaking for a long time.

I so desperately wanted to look over and see what Viktor was drilling for his own piece, what he had in mind for his new short and free program for this season. He'd given all his ideas to Yurio and me for our short program, so I wondered what he had thought of next. Shamelessly, I wondered if he'd gotten any inspiration from his time with me, the way I had with him. Or maybe I was just a depressing distraction, a partner who wouldn't join him in Russia.

It made me practice all the harder. If I couldn't prove that I didn't need a coach, if I couldn't achieve the same technical scores without Viktor there, then all of this would be for naught. All of Viktor's sacrifices by retiring to coach me, and now having to build back up. I knew I didn't want to return to Celestino, but I was still thinking I would visit Phichit-kun in Bangkok and do a training camp with Ciao Ciao. My thoughts kept returning to Minami Kenjirou, my cute little kouhai who had won Japanese nationals last year after I biffed it. His coach, Odagaki-sensei, had made the world championships multiple times back when she was a competitive skater, and even skated at the Olympics, but never medaled. I didn't know her very well, but if Minami-kun's skating was any indication, she was extremely skilled. It might be worth it to pursue that line of thought.

Viktor pulled off to the side to get a drink of water and wipe his face on his towel. I skated over.

"How's it going?" I put a hand gently on his back, in between his shoulder blades.

Viktor nodded, almost to himself. "Good. Still brainstorming things."

"Yeah, you looked like you were deep in thought."

Viktor flipped around and leaned back against the banister. I couldn't help it—I leaned in for a quick kiss. He wasn't my coach anymore. We were fellow skaters, though as my idol, he could never be my equal in my eyes. But the day would come too soon when we couldn't casually touch each other like this, so I wanted to treasure it.

Plus, as my coach, Viktor had always been the one supporting me, not the other way around. I'd simply pictured my contribution to our relationship would be to work as hard as I could on skating, to prove that his coaching paid off. Now I had to learn how to support Viktor as well, what he appreciated and didn't, what worked and didn't.

Viktor smooched me and leaned back again like that was something he did all the time. My supportive thoughts were dashed in the wake of burning jealousy when I realized with Viktor, he'd had lovers before. More than likely, those lovers were skaters. A quick smooch at the rink was probably something he was used to. It wasn't anything special to him like it was to me.

"Yuuri," Viktor said.

"Hmmm?"

Viktor dashed a hand through his hair, clearly trying to find the words he wanted. "I just, I'm wondering if I could solicit your input."

I perked up. "Certainly."

Viktor smiled, bumping shoulders with me. "It's just that, Yakov has usually at least a half dozen students. When I'm brainstorming a new routine, I look around the rink and see other top male and female skaters and what they're doing. It gives me ideas. I automatically critique them and discover choreography that I know I could do better, or something completely new and different that I want to try. I guess the first country I conquer each season is Russia." He chuckled at his own joke.

I grinned. Yurio would be *so* mad if he heard this.

But what he said made sense—I had always intuited seemingly masculine and feminine styles in Viktor's skating, even after he cut his gorgeous long hair. To me, Viktor surpassed gender, like the beautiful warrior angels depicted in statues all over Europe. Viktor was Viktor, a bright shining angel with lethal fury, neither man nor woman.

"What input would you like from me?" I asked. "You already know what you'll see if I skate for you." Though I hoped to level up before Nationals. With Yurio on the rise and Viktor coming back, I couldn't afford to stagnate.

Viktor scrunched his eyebrows together. "In that case, I don't know—what routines of mine over the years have really inspired you? Any moves that are your favorite? You're a fan."

"Oh, I'm more than just a fan—"

Just then, Yuko walked by and I called to her. "Skate up and join us!"

"Eh?!" Yuko visibly reeled away from me, rooted to the spot. "J-join you? With Viktor Nikiforov on the same ice?"

"Viktor wants to know his fans' favorite moves of his. He's looking for ideas."

Viktor cocked his head back to get his bangs out of his eyes. He smiled softly at Yuko, the way he knew always made her melt at the knees. "All these months and I've never gotten to see you skate."

I jumped in before she could make excuses.

"Yuko-san teaches the younger classes here. She was competitive regionally before retiring."

That got Viktor's attention. "Really? What happened?"

Yuko blushed. "This." She gave a shy wave to her figure. "I became an adult woman in high school and got this body and nothing I did could reverse it. I lost all of my jumps, and well, it just seemed like a good time to quit I guess." She gave a modest little laugh.

That wasn't the whole story. Her parents were at risk of bankruptcy because their shop was failing and eventually had to be closed down. As soon as Yuko was able to get her work permit at fifteen, she jumped in at the Ice Castle to contribute to the household expenses. Those years, I'd skated while Yuko cleaned the skates and put them up in the evenings. She'd had no choice but to stand by while I finally caught up to her, and eventually surpassed her. I had been sad and angry back then at my own helplessness. I'd skated for her dreams too. I still did.

Nishigori, seeing what Yuko was going through, quit the hockey team in high school to work alongside her and support her. Before I'd left for Detroit, the triplets had happened, with something of an emergency wedding right before that. The rest was history. I would tell Viktor later.

Yuko skated up and I launched into my fanboy spree, skating to the center of the rink.

"Junior World Championship 2013," I said, assuming the opening pose. "Sonata in B."

"Wait." Viktor waved his hands in front of his chest. "You don't actually have the whole routine memorized, right?"

"Yuuri has *every single one* of your routines memorized," Yuko said, throwing me under the bus. "He's got every International Skating Federation DVD you're in, stuffed under the mattress of his bed!"

Oof.

I completed the opening sequence and swung wide around the perimeter of the rink toward them. "You have them all memorized too, Yuko! Don't deny it! And I've loaned you all those DVDs at least once."

I extended my hands toward her and Yuko took my invitation, falling into pace with me with a grin. We skated the entire routine. Yuko downgraded the jumps to hops, but my heart took flight at getting to skate with her again.

Panting at the end, she gave me a high five.

"We've got to do this more often," I said to her.

Yuko's face was pretty blissful as she gave me a side-hug. "I didn't know I still had that in me!"

Viktor clapped. "Yuko-san, I can't believe you're so good after so many years of not training! And after having triplets!"

Yuko and I both flinched at his forwardness.

Yuko scratched the back of her head and laughed. "I wonder if I've still got my double axel?"

"I'm sure if you joined us more often you could get it back," he answered.

We returned to him at the side of the rink.

Viktor appraised me. "I'm trying to get Yuuri to join me in Saint Petersburg."

"Not this again," I mumbled, imploring him to not pull Yuko into this.

"You would train under Coach Yukov?" Yuko asked me. I nodded.

"But Yuuri wants me to stay here in Hasetsu, but I'll be coming out of retirement without a coach."

"I see. Neither of you wants to be separated," Yuko said. "The benefit of Hasetsu is you get almost unlimited access to ice, but if you do it without a coach, Yurio-kun might overtake you both!"

Viktor burst out laughing and I practically growled. "Never." I was happy to see Viktor so relaxed though.

"Thank you," Viktor finally said when he calmed down. His eyes still shone with laughter. "I think I know what I want to do now. You've given me some ideas."

Yuko and I high-fived.

"Mom!!"

Axel, Lutz and Loop ran up to the rink, all three of them holding up their cell phones.

"You're going to miss the school bus!" Yuko screeched at them, stepping out of the rink.

"Check Twitter!"

Viktor kicked away from the wall and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Kids are cute as long as they're not mine."

I laughed. "Agreed."

Yuko gasped at Axel's phone.

"Uh oh," Viktor quipped.

"What now?" I asked, terrified the triplets had leaked something again.

Yuko's face turned beat red. She pointed at her daughters. "Did you do this?"

The triplets cowered and nodded.

"Give me your phones NOW! Get out to the school bus! You're grounded!! Now!"

"Nooooo Mommy!!"

Viktor grabbed one of the phones on the barrier and jerked. "Oh dear."

I came up behind him and looked over his shoulder.

A tweet had been retweeted tens of thousands of times, titled "Welcome Home, Okaeri."

It was me kissing Viktor at the rink yesterday.

End Chapter Eleven


	12. Chapter 12

Viktor

I'd barely shut the door to my bedroom behind us when Yuuri was yanking my clothes off.

"Whoah," I breathed. "You don't want to bathe first? I'm so sweaty."

"I want you now," Yuuri said.

Whoaaaaah.

We undressed each other and sunk to the floor. I grabbed my blanket from on top of my bed and laid it out over the tatami. Yuuri pounced me so hard I fell back to the mats. Now that we were naked, my body was going crazy at seeing Yuuri naked on top of me.

"Wait, Yuuri—"

"No." He pushed my shoulders back down to the mat and kissed me hard, even when I pushed against him. I finally resorted to pounding his chest for him to finally release me.

It took us a minute to catch our breaths, and for my brain to turn back on.

"God, Yuuri, first things first." I grabbed his shoulders and squeezed, making the sternest face I could even though I was seriously turned on.

Yuuri blinked, registering my disapproval.

"I'm okay with you being a bit forceful," I said, "But I have to know it's coming. You can't spring it on me before discussing it beforehand."

Yuuri gasped and sat back. "I'm sorry."

I sat up, my arousal wilting. "It's okay. We just need to have some ground rules. You read about that, right?"

Yuuri nodded vigorously. "I don't want to do anything you don't want to do."

That was a good start. "For now, let's say that words like 'wait' and 'no' and 'stop' are taken at face value, okay? I won't say them in jest. And if I'm pushing on you, let's assume I need you to ease up, okay?"

"Okay, got it."

I cupped my hand against his face. "Now come here."

Yuuri's expression was so entranced I couldn't believe he was looking at me. But he still didn't move.

I kissed him, pressing my tongue into his mouth. That woke him up.

I eased back down and Yuuri followed me, straddling my waist and grinding our erections together.

Oh my god.

"Mm," I mumbled against Yuuri's lips, but he must've taken that as encouragement instead of me trying to talk to him.

I pushed on his arms. He sat up and looked at me expectantly.

"Get the condoms, Yuuri," I panted. "I can't wait any longer."

He tensed up. "C-condoms?"

"Yeah?" What was the problem?

Yuuri pulled his hands off me like I'd burned him.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry." Yuuri dug both hands into his hair and pulled. "I haven't read that far in my books yet. I don't know—"

"I can teach you—"

"No!" Yuuri put his hands out in a clear stop gesture. "I want to do this right. Please give me more time."

I let a long breath out, trying not to sound exasperated. That was my Yuuri, trying to get everything perfect, instead of messy and artistic.

I sat up again. "How about this. You're comfortable with our hand job swapping the other day, right?"

Yuuri nodded vigorously, his powerful demeanor from earlier gone.

"I'll go down on you," I suggested. "Then if you want, you can return the favor. Does that sound good?"

Yuuri took in a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah. That's a great idea."

Of course it was.

I pushed him back to lean against the bed. "Actually, sit on top, so I can kneel."

Yuuri pushed up until he was sitting at around my waist height. I sank to my knees.

"Oh my god," Yuuri whispered.

I smirked. Yuuri's breath hitched it at the view.

I settled between his legs and took all of Yuuri into view. I only then realized that I had never been with a partner who wasn't circumcised and I had failed to read up about that. Oops.

I looked up at him. "Uhm..."

Yuuri was so busy panting at me that it took him a moment to catch on. "Oh."

I watched as he gently slid the foreskin down, nice and slow. So that was how it worked.

I nuzzled into Yuuri's hair, taking in his musky scent, the heady quality that was distinctly Yuuri.

"Viktor!"

I met his eyes but didn't say anything. He was so surprised, like what I was doing was dirty. So my face is in your crotch. Get used to it.

"Viktor, please don't tease me," he said.

Yuuri's desperate voice made me want to tease him all the more. I held back a sigh of pleasure, because I knew what he meant by those words: he was a virgin; all of this was completely new, and he worried he would go off at any moment.

Okay. I'll be nice, this time.

"I'm going to use my tongue, okay?"

"Okay," Yuuri squeaked.

I forced myself to not chuckle at him.

Lightly, but still deliberately, I held him between my fingers and trailed my tongue up from the base, lapping the tip of his head softly. Yuuri gripped the futon with white knuckles and heaved shaky breaths.

"Viktor. I'm sorry—"

"Hold on, at least let me try to swallow you, okay?"

"Oh my god."

"Just a few seconds."

I held him at the based and slipped my lips over his head, trying to keep it soft so Yuuri didn't blast off. Yuuri was watching me like I was one of the seven wonders of the world. I slid up and down a couple of times, feeling Yuuri's balls clench dangerously in my hand.

I pulled off. "It's okay if you want to come, Yuuri."

He tugged at my shoulders with trembling hands. "I don't want to get it all over you."

"I was planning to swallow it."

Yuuri screeched something incomprehensible.

"No," he said between panted breaths. "No, my idol can't swallow my—"

"Your idol is sucking your dick right now," I said matter-of-factly, then went down on him again.

"Ah! Viktor! Oh—"

Yuuri arched off the bed and came. I pumped one more time and waited, feeling Yuuri pulse between my lips. He was surprisingly not very bitter, and just the slightest bit salty and sweet. This must be because Yuuri ate his mother's cooking every day, and didn't smoke and hardly drank. Healthy lifestyle optimization. It made me wonder not for the first time whether the men and women I'd dated in the past were doping, or at least how they managed to become competitive athletes while trashing their bodies with junk food and cigarettes and booze. In comparison, Yuuri was cold water on a hot day.

Yuuri heaved a tremendous sigh and sunk deep into the futon, covering his eyes with an arm and effectively ignoring me. I'd just swallowed his jizz and received not even a 'thanks', but I guess he needed a private moment.

I got up and found my water bottle and chugged it down to get rid of Yuuri's taste. I'd since gone soft.

"Viktor."

I turned around to see Yuuri holding his arms out to me, still on the bed. His expression was so open and vulnerable I almost asked him whether something was wrong.

I settled on the bed with him and let Yuuri drape his arms around me. He looked over me like he was seeing me for the first time, squeezing my shoulders, cupping my face, carding his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and reveled in his adoring touches.

"I've been a fool," Yuuri said, his voice still husky.

"How so?" I asked.

Yuuri continued to pet me. "Because I've already used the strongest words I have to describe how I feel about you, and now that I've reached this new level, I don't have any stronger words I can say to you."

"Like love? Suki?" I asked.

"Mochiron, sukidayo," Yuuri said. "Of course. But I've already told everyone that you were the first person I've ever wanted to hold on to."

"Oh, at the press conference."

"Yeah. Ai ni suru. Now I don't have any words left," he said.

I sighed. Oh, Yuuri. "You could always say that to me more often," I suggested. "I'll always like that."

"Yeah, but—"

"You could also say it to me in Russian." I grinned.

Yuuri's eyes widened. "How do you say it in Russian?"

I made a pouty face. "I'll teach you in St. Petersburg."

Yuuri caught onto the trap a moment too late. He swatted me for catching him, then got up and pushed me into the bed.

"Now, my turn."

End Chapter Twelve


	13. Chapter 13

Yuuri

We passed the weeks until nationals just this way. In the early mornings we'd critique each other's form, trying to coach. Then once the Ice Castle opened for business we returned home for an early lunch and a midday nap. Then training and once Ice Castle closed for the night we returned to the ice and practiced on our own until we were too tired to continue. Then dinner, then staying up late into the night exploring all the things I'd never known I was missing. It was heaven. Who knew that heaven could be found in Hasetsu, Kyushu, Japan?

Now it was two weeks before Russian nationals, and three weeks before Japan. Viktor's visa expired in ten days. We'd dutifully kept out of the spotlight after Axel, Loop and Lutz uploaded the photo of me kissing Viktor when he came back. Gradually the internet had died down, though I still worried that Viktor would face some kind of homophobic bigotry when he went back, even in a city as large as St. Petersburg. I'd texted Yurio to look after him, and received a very acerbic reply that he would murder anyone who came near Viktor. Scary. 

Now Viktor was about to mix things up again, but it wasn't about our relationship this time. This time, Viktor's skating would turn the world on its head. 

Viktor called Yuko and her girls to the rink one morning before the triplets had to leave for school. I kept working on my step sequence until I heard Yuko asking what was going on. I joined them too.

"I want you to leak something for me," Viktor said.

Yuko eyed me in confusion while the girls squealed. When Viktor met my eyes, I knew I had read his mind. 

I grinned. "He's going to leak his program."

Yuko just about died.

The triplets positioned themselves around the rink to get different angles. I stepped out of the rink.

"What words of wisdom do you have for me?" 

Viktor's flirty tone was enough to make me want to slap his ass.

I sobered and locked eyes with him. "Show the world a Viktor they have never seen before." Make them tremble in fear at your return.

Viktor's bashful smile warmed me. He kissed me and lingered a moment. Lutz gasped next to us. 

Viktor pulled away, his eyes full of confidence, then he skated to the center of the rink.

"I know he's not skating to music for this," Lutz said, "but could you tell us which song he's using for his short program, Yuuri-san?"

"He commissioned it," I said, not taking my eyes off my partner. "It's called Despair, by the composer who wrote the score for Heart of Darkness."

Viktor began.

His opening consisted of a back spin, almost unheard of at the start of a routine, then he swept wide and into the deepest layback Ina Bauer he could manage. He skated the perimeter of the rink to pick up speed and nailed a quad salcal right at the start. He made it look easy. 

Then a flying sitting spin, and we were into the second half...

I watched Viktor transform before my eyes. Months back, Viktor had surprised me by asking how he could get his flexibility on par with mine. I'd never realized that I was the most flexible skater Viktor had ever worked with. It wasn't exactly visible, because I was always so nervous and therefore too stiff in competition for it to show. Soaking in the onsen each night, sometimes two or three times a day, Viktor had adhered to a strict stretching regime and visited the massage therapist in town around every other day. He'd made visible progress.

I was accustomed to seeing Viktor's performances as powerful, even in his vulnerability, but over the past weeks he'd strained his body so hard to improve his flexibility that he'd lost muscle mass and a significant amount of weight. It made his limbs more malleable, sure, and his body lighter to lift off the ice, but this Viktor was something I'd never seen, almost frail.

Though frailty was not weakness.

I stopped thinking about all the work Viktor had put into this routine, and got pulled into his flow. I stopped being his coach, his workout partner and his friend. I became simply nothing, stretched into nonexistence in an unending darkness.

I didn't even have the strength to cry. Maybe that was despair, to me. He wouldn't show me what his costume looked like for his short program, but if he wore all black like he did now, I didn't know how I would ever pull myself back into the light, how anyone would. 

A death drop with incredible height into a sitting spin, then up into such a tight standing spin I didn't know how he kept his balance. When he ended, it was with his arms limp, his head down, defeated, and yet the routine he'd just skated was very, very high in GOE. Higher than mine, Yurio's, even JJ's if Viktor skated it perfectly, as he just had. 

He was here to reclaim his world records. We were about to post a world-record-level performance on Youtube.

It took everyone a minute to realize Viktor was done. I was still in a trance when he skated over to me and planted a kiss smack on my lips. 

"O-okaeri," I managed to say.

Viktor smiled. "Tadaima."

#

Needless to say, the internet had a complete meltdown. #darkViktor was trending on Twitter. Mila had counter-trended with a video of Yurio chucking his phone at the viewing window of the ice rink, only to have it bounce back and hit him in the head, laying him out on the floor. Yakov's screeching could be heard in the background. Viktor had listened to whatever Yakov was yelling about and simply laughed. We both turned our phones off for the rest of the day, relaxed and made love.

The next morning, Viktor wanted to leak his free program.

I tried to talk him out of it, but he just laughed and brushed me off. Yuko stood next to me and held her breath alongside me as Viktor skated his program, Reticence. He said it was about the silencing of queer people in Russia, commissioned by the same composer. He'd told me it encompassed his feelings at having to hide me away, or else risk my safety. He skated a suppressed strength, a dancer locked inside a dark room, but dancing all the same. Viktor landed all of the jumps flawlessly, like he was skating for the Worlds. I was so inspired, I forgot to be intimidated.

When he finished, I cheered so loud they had to edit me out of the video. 

Viktor skated back to me, laughing with tears in his eyes. Only then did I realize I was crying too. He kissed me and we hugged, oblivious to the triplets dancing around us with their phones. 

We spent another blissful evening with our phones turned off.

Three days later, I walked Viktor to the train station. He'd opted for taking the local train to the nearest shinkansen hub and using that to get to Tokyo, since Makkachin always hated planes.

Viktor had one large hard rolling suitcase, and the rest was going to be shipped to St. Petersburg once he found an apartment. He'd be staying with Yurio for the week leading up to Nationals. I wouldn't get to see his costumes before everyone else did on TV. 

I had promised myself I'd stay strong—this was a much better departure than the last one after all—but I felt like I was unraveling.

"When do they get here?" Viktor asked. His eyes were dry, focused on all the traveling he had ahead of him, with his dog.

I sniffed back my tears. "Minami-kun said they were on the 9AM Shinkansen, which means they could be arriving soon enough that I could just stay and wait."

"Yuuri~!"

"Oh my," Viktor explained. "You summoned them, Yuuri."

Oh no.

Minami Kenjirou ran over to me, his coach trailing a ways behind. I made introductions. Viktor apologized that he was only meeting them just as he had to leave to catch his train. Coach Kanako pulled Minami away to give us some privacy.

I was so worn I was trembling, and I couldn't pull myself back together. I was having to say goodbye with an audience now, something who idolized me for being strong.

"It'll be good to have them," Viktor said, his eyes smiling. "Just as I need Yakov, you need someone to tell it to you straight, and I'm sure Kanako will notice things we've both missed. Plus Minami-kun loves you so much. He's my rival."

I laughed.

Viktor kissed me. "That's my Yuuri. I'll see you at Worlds, babe."

There was just absolutely no way I was going to make it that long. Being from Japan, I wasn't allowed to compete in the European Championships, though Russians could. I'd be in the Four Continents competition, separate from Viktor, all the way until the World Championships.

"Yeah, see you there. I won't biff it at Nationals this time."

Viktor snickered. "You better not. The door's always open in St. Petersburg if you change your mind."

"Same here," I said stubbornly.

Viktor kissed me and wrapped me in a hug. That was when I came apart, in his embrace.

"Oh Yuuri." Viktor's voice was choked up too. 

I couldn't form words, just shook and cried silent sobs against him.

"I love you," he said against my neck so that only I could hear. Makkachin jumped up on my legs and whined.

"I love you too," I whispered.

"Forever?"

"What?" I said around sniffles.

"Forever, Yuuri?"

"Yeah." It might be one-sided from me, but I'd loved him since I was six. I wasn't about to stop now.

Viktor laughed and pulled back a bit, kissing my forehead, then pulled away.

I took my glasses off to scrub at my eyes. When I put them back on Viktor was a step away, with Makkachin close on the leash.

"I'll go now," he said.

I nodded. "Sayonara."

"Dasvidanya."

He turned and entered the station.

It was like each step he took away from me ratcheted up the tempo of my shallow breaths, and every second after he'd disappeared into the station and didn't return was another level up the ladder of panic. By the time I turned away from the station, my eyesight was down to a tunnel. I couldn't risk walking back down the stairs.

Minami was standing in front of me, tears in his eyes. "Yuuri-san, are you okay?"

"No," I heaved. "I'm having a panic attack."

I basically fell to the concrete stairs when Minami guided me down and called over to his coach. Kanako talked me through taking slower breaths and both of them held me and breathed with me.

The tunnel that had shrunk to a pin prick slowly widened. The concrete stairs came back, Hasetsu Station came back, Minami and Coach came back, but not Viktor.

"You seem better Yuuri," Kanako said. "We should still catch a cab home. You're white as a sheet."

Minami had tears streaming down his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry for all that," I said to the both of them, although adrenaline was still working its way out of my body and I was quaking. 

Kanako shook her head and helped me up. Once I was stable enough, they got me down the stairs, and by then I was feeling like the episode was finally over.

Minami gave me a hug. "Don't you worry, Yuuri, I'll take good care of you! You'll be okay!"

He loves you so much. He's my rival. Viktor's words came back to me.

I hugged him back. "Thank you."

End Chapter Thirteen


	14. Chapter 14

Yuuri

Minami and his coach Odagaki Kanako, who insisted I refer to her by her first name of Kanako, moved into my family's onsen on a trial basis to see if I wanted to take Kanako-san on as my coach. Hayakawa, the Figure Skating Japan photographer from Tokyo, visited and took a picture featuring Minami-kun, with me hugging him from behind. The Figure Skating Japan magazine ran a story about famous sempai-kouhai relationships in men's and women's figure skating over the decades since skating became a competitive sport. Of course the corresponding picture would have been of Viktor with Yurio, but Yurio had apparently put up such a massive fit about it that things had to be changed and Minami and I got the full cover. In the end, Yurio was cringing so hard in the photo that they didn't even do a full-page spread of it, but minimized it and included in within the article. I'd asked Hayakawa to send me a gloss of it and had it up on my wall. The angel and the devil on my shoulder, in the same photo.

"Yuuri-san!" Minami picked up speed on the ice. "Watch my quad flip! I've finally got one!"

He launched into the jump and actually landed it, though Kanako and I were both holding our breath.

"Good job." I clapped him on the shoulder when he returned. "But you know jumps aren't everything, right? If they were, I never would have made it this far." I always flubbed my jumps when I was nervous, but my performance scores remained high.

Kanako nodded sternly. She'd told me Minami was pushing his body so hard to catch up to me that she was worried he'd risk injury.

Minami scowled. "That Yuri Plisetsky can do all the quads he wants, and he's two years younger than me."

"I didn't have my first quads till my twenties," I countered.

"Plus, Yuri Plisetsky is not your concern," Kanako said. "You must work on becoming the best version of yourself, not of him."

"And he'll grow up to be a big hulking Russian," I teased. "You need to eat more of the food my mother cooks for you."

That made Minami's eyes go wide. "He'll be the next Evgeni Plushenko."

I laughed. "And you'll be the next Hanyu Yuzuru, but only if you work on your performance scores."

Minami's eyes were full of stars. "I want to be the next Katsuki Yuuri."

That caught me off guard. "You don't want to—"

"Now," Kanako interrupted. "Let me see your free skate, Yuuri."

I skated to the middle of the ice and waited for the music to start. Yuuri on Ice, my free skate theme, had always been full of emotion for me, but as things changed with Viktor all the time, to something more and more beautiful, so did my journey with this song. It was so full of emotion for me that I didn't have time to dissect it and contemplate it once the music started. I had no choice but to skate the routine and just let it flow out of me, lost from my grasp before I could define its beauty.

When I finished the routine, I missed Viktor, but now I felt whole again. I could make it through this. After I finished, Kanako sent Minami onto the ice and pulled me off.

She was frowning at me. Medium brown hair, dark brown eyes and a beautiful if plain face, she was always so cheerful with Minami I wasn't expecting to see her angry with me.

"Y-yes?" I asked, stepping off.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Oh my.

"What was that quad triple?" she said. "You looked like you weighed as much as an elephant when you lifted off the ice."

I winced.

"And that free leg! Did Viktor allow you to skate that way? And the form on your triple lutz is hideous. It needs to be tightened, what?"

I beamed at her. She was going to make a great coach.

#

One week later

Since Viktor was part of the family now (my parents literally called him "our Russian son." The first time I heard Dad say it I ran to my room and cried) we held a watch party for the Russian nationals, with me in the seat of honor at the end of our long table in the main room.

"Yuuri." Minako-sensei sat down next to me. "Want to drink?"

"Ah, no, thank you." I grabbed my class and placed it a bit closer to me. "I want to be able to really pay attention."

She smiled her mischievous smile. "Analyzing the competition? Gotta be sober for that."

Minami shushed the room as the broadcast started and broadcaster Morooka greeted the Japanese audience. Yurio's interview went fabulously: he scowled his cute face and uttered some pretty mean-sounding Russian. The interpreter hesitated and said to Morooka: "He said 'I don't need a Japanese piggy and a flaky Siberian to motivate me. This title is mine.'"

Oooh, Yurio, how I've missed you.

"Flaky Siberian?" Nishigori asked. "Does he mean Viktor?"

"I think so," Yuko said.

Viktor declined interviews besides a charming "Please cheer for me today!" and then allowed Yakov to usher him along.

Even though I knew Viktor was strong; he always had been, but today, I was a bundle of nerves.

To my surprise, even the Japanese broadcast showed the lower-level skaters, those who were in senior-level competition but hadn't qualified for the Grand Prix series. We all—my family, the Nishigori's, Minako-sensei, Minami-kun and Kanako-sensei—ate dinner and cheered through the early performances. All the adults aside from me were a bit drunk by the time the higher-level contenders cued up to skate.

I couldn't stand the excitement in the room, so I excused myself during Georgi's weird stalkery short program and sat out on the front steps. By the time Yuko came out to get me, I was jogging back and forth from our front door to the gate and back.

"Yurio's up next," Yuko called. "Then it's Viktor."

I turned to my best friend and let my walls down a little bit. If anyone could read how I was feeling, it was Yuko. "Okay."

"Are you excited to see him again?" Her eyes were filled with concern.

"Yeah." I walked back up the steps to the house. "It's just hard. I'm not sleeping as well, and I'm kind of stressed out."

Yuko gave me a hug. Since when had I gotten taller than her? I wondered if I'd grown in the last year. I held her close. Nishigori always joked that Yuko was my wife instead of his. I was so comfortable with her that she was probably the only person who could give me consolation at a time like this.

"Have you ever felt this way?" I asked.

Yuko pulled back and blushed. "Remember that summer when Takeshi took a job on a commercial salmon boat to earn some fast cash?"

"Oh yeah." I laughed. Yuko had been so lonely then, and I'd still been in high school, trying to console my friend by texting in class and getting in trouble.

"That was the first time I'd ever really had to go without him. He'd just always been nearby, you know? In a small town like this..."

I nodded, because I knew that too. Moving to Detroit would've been much harder had I not had the burning fire of leveling up in figure skating to keep me warm at night.

Yuko's flush deepened. "That's also when we got Axel, Loop and Lutz!"

That pulled me from my thoughts. "He came back and got you pregnant?"

"Yeah!" She laughed with me. "With the girls now, we haven't spent much time apart, but we have our own list of problems that comes with that, what with trying to balance everything."

"Sometimes I think Viktor's skating will surely get me pregnant," I said.

Yuko giggled. We grinned at each other.

She held her hand out to me. Let's go."

I took her hand. "Yeah."

We'd missed Yurio's performance. He didn't break any records, but was sitting solidly in first with quite a cushion between him and Georgi. Now it was Viktor's turn.

Morooka introduced Viktor to the Japanese audience but he was nearly drowned out by the crowd's roar. It was so enormous you couldn't hear the Russian announcer say Viktor's name. Viktor circled the rink waving at everyone and the crowd went absolutely wild. Then as his prep time was ending, Viktor skated to the center of the rink and stopped, did another 360 to take in the crowd and then settled into his starting pose. He stood with one leg out behind him, his arms wrapped around his ducked head, like someone turning away in shame.

The crowd, however, didn't stop screaming.

Viktor stayed in his pose, never faltering. An announcement rang overhead.

"The Russian MC is begging the crowd to quiet down in the arena!" Morooka explained.

Out of the tumult, one word surfaced like a deity rising from turbulent waves.

"Do you know that word, Yuuri-san?" Minami asked. "What are they saying?"

I tried and failed to stem the tears that were streaming down my face. Viktor and I shared a name, in a way. Katsuki, my family name, was written with the characters of "win" or "triumph" and then "life," so the person who wins. In other words, the victor. What the Russians were shouting in the arena so loud the microphones were getting overloaded and spitting was a word in Russian that came to be synonymous with Viktor's name, a word that Yurio had taught me, with no small amount of jealousy attached.

"They're chanting 'Champion'," I said.

End Chapter Fourteen


	15. Chapter 15

Yuuri

"The startup time has been exceeded," Morooka continued. "Warning lights are flashing at the rink. I can hear the announcer trying to say something over the loudspeakers, but no one is heeding him. There seems to be no end in sight. Never in all of my broadcasting career have I heard a crowd such as this."

Jealousy was one way to put it. Inspiration was another. I suddenly knew that I would have to go to Saint Petersburg, even though I knew that crowd was not cheering for me. But I loved this person, and to not share in this moment with him seemed wrong somehow. I would at the very least go after Nationals, and if things didn't work out then I would come back, but I couldn't afford to miss this. My soul wouldn't have it.

Minako-sensei wrapped an arm around my shoulders and side-hugged me. I wasn't paying attention to how much I was crying or whether that was at all proper. I wasn't really in the room with my family and friends right now. Minako-sensei pressed a cup of hot sake in my hand. I downed it like a shot.

"Whoa, son!" my father exclaimed.

"Just one," I said, putting the glass back down on the table. Someone might fill it, but that was all I was drinking tonight. 

The crowd at least had the sense to not throw roses onto the ice before his performance. The people in charge eventually decided that this would never end, so they put on Viktor's music, so loud that the cheering eventually died down and Viktor began to skate. His outfit was all black, his trousers were not tight like a leotard, since regulation didn't allow it for men, but form-fitting enough that you could make out his musculature. His top was form-fitting as well, a black mock turtle, with long sleeves and black gloves on that made a beautiful image when Viktor swept down and touched the ice with his hands and slid his feet out wide, like he was melding into the floor before rising again like a spirit of the dead. The black was shimmery in places, as if the fabric were made of obsidian, while still other places were a black mesh as to be see-through. Viktor skated with such a fluid grace, he could be naked and he still could not appear any more bare and vulnerable than this. 

"The theme of Viktor Nikiforov's short program is Despair, from the Heart of Darkness," Morooka explained. "Nikiforov explained that he wished to convey the trauma of persecution with this piece."

"That's cheery," Minako-sensei snipped. "Did you make him gloomy, Yuuri? Surely this is your fault."

I didn't take my eyes off the screen. Viktor landed his quad double combo with incredible height. He could've easily made it a quad triple with that height, but I guessed he didn't need the points with what he had coming next.

"The composer is said to have used the lyrics from a young man's diary," Morooka explained. "The young man's diary was discovered by his parents after their son was murdered in the streets of Moscow in the wake of the passing of the Public Indecency Act in 2013, which criminalized gay and lesbian activity, encompassing the entire LGBT community. The parents had not known their son was gay."

"Oh my god," Minami said.

I nodded. I had known that Viktor wanted to include something like this, though I had thought it would be a survivor story. 

"The poem from the boy's diary is in Russian," Morooka said. "I have the Japanese translation as follows:

You struggled hard,  
And found what you believed in.  
You fought and changed,  
And gave the world your best.  
And when you lost  
The life that you believed in,  
I saw the world,  
It broke down and confessed.  
And when you lost  
The life that you believed in,  
I saw the world,  
It broke down and it wept."

Viktor nailed the last of his jumps, then leapt into a huge death drop and sitting spin.

"Goodness, that's the saddest poem I've ever heard!" my mother exclaimed.

Viktor came out of the spin and sunk back into a laidback Ina Bauer, his head almost completely upside down. The crowd went wild at this. We all knew it was something he couldn't do before. It was something he had begged me to teach him, my signature. I'd helped so much with this.

"He's lost weight," Minako-sensei said. "I didn't notice that before."

"It's okay," I said. "He's transforming." Viktor wasn't "losing" anything.

The final spins, the crowd getting louder and louder. Then Viktor ended in a different pose from what he had posted on Youtube. He flew out of his spins, and, with a dramatic two-handed reach toward the sky, sunk back again into a backbend, his arms dangling over his head, like a broken doll who had fallen backward. The esthetic effect was enormous: that of a person so steeped in despair that they'd been blown apart by the wind. Viktor's fingertips grasped at nothing.

The crowd completely lost it.

"There are no words to explain the impression this performance has made on the people in this arena!" Morooka shouted. "Viktor Nikiforov has returned!!"

My living room exploded with cheers and pats on my back as I sat there in a daze. Someone pressed another glass of hot sake in my hand and I downed it unconsciously. 

Viktor rose from his position, kissed his hands and waved them at the crowd. A coupe dozen little Russian girls were collecting all of the roses and stuffed miniatures of Makkachin that were being thrown onto the ice. After a round of kisses and bowing to the crowd, Viktor made as if to exit but decided against it at the last moment. He swooped up the smallest of the little girls, who couldn't be any more than five or six, and set her on his shoulder.

"That player!" Minako-sensei shouted.

I was somehow on my third glass of sake.

Viktor looped the rink once, twice, with the little girl seated on his shoulder. This was going to make all the figure skating magazines. She was so cute, in her little uniform skating leotard the colors of the Russian flag, her hair up in a high ponytail with the ends curled in ringlets. She'd looked so terrified when Viktor picked her up, but now she was clasping one hand in his and waving the other at the crowd like she was the queen.

"That's adorable," Yuko sighed.

"Daddy! Will you do that with us?" the triplets squealed.

At last Viktor set the little girl down and she curtsied to him before skating away. That cute child curtsying, with Viktor's gentlemanly bow, was going to be the front page of every Russian newspaper tomorrow. 

With one last wave to the crowd, Viktor left the ice. The cameras followed him as he put his guards on, Yakov standing by silently, though his face was beet red in anger (I could only imagine the lecture he'd get for making such a show), then over to the kiss and cry where his scores were announced. He had reclaimed his short program world title from Yurio. 

Viktor bowed to the camera to thank the judges and then got up again, leaving the kiss and cry. A reporter was on him immediately, and the interpreter jumped in for the Japanese.

"Is there anything you would like to say to this crowd tonight Viktor?"

Viktor grinned and shouted something in Russian. The Japanese came a moment later and broke my heart.

"It's good to be back in Russia!"

When that broadcast on the screens in the arena, the crowd was so loud you could hear it backstage.

"Foul!" I shouted, slamming my fourth sake glass down on the table. "I call foul! You loved it here! Dammit!"

"Minako-senpai, stop pouring him drinks!" my mother exclaimed. 

"And what do you have to say to the other competitors out there who saw your performance tonight?" the Russian interviewer asked. "Do you have a message for the other world-record holder, Katsuki Yuuri?"

I always found it strange how my name was pronounced in Russian.

To my complete and total disbelief, after all of the excitement and shouting, Viktor's expression turned soft. Everyone in the living room fell silent.

Viktor said a couple of sentences in the most beautiful Russian I had ever heard. In that moment my heart decided that I would have to learn that language, just as Viktor was learning Japanese, so that we could say these things to each other and be understood.

The Japanese translation came through.

"I will take my world record back from Katsuki Yuuri, and then he'll take it back from me, when it is his time. If I could say one thing to him right now though, it is that I miss you. Please come to Russia so that we don't have to be apart like this."

Then Viktor faced the camera dead-on and spoke in Japanese: hanarezuni soba ni ite.

"F-foul!" I cried.

"Yuuri!" someone shouted at me, grabbing the sake bottle from my end of the table and putting it somewhere else.

The programming was already running late, so instead of showing the medals ceremony, the TV changed to Saga soccer recaps.

"It's not fair," I mumbled. "Why am I the one that has to go to him? He has a home and family and a rink here. Russia is so scary for open gays like us. It's just not fair."

"It's okay, Yuuri-san," Minami said from beside me. He wrapped an arm around my back in comfort. "You'll get it figured out, I'm sure of it."

I leaned against him, my head suddenly so heavy from drinking so fast. "Liar."

Minami laughed, petting my hair. "It's true, I swear it."

"Minami-kun, could you keep Yuuri there while we clean up?" Father asked.

Minami held me closer. "Sure."

I felt myself falling asleep, then woke up a little bit when I slid to the tatami.

"Oof!" 

I opened my eyes to see a blushing Minami underneath me. He must've cushioned my fall. 

"Sorry," I murmured.

Minami's smile was pretty blissed-out. "It's okay, Yuuri-san. Anything you want. Let's just stay here while everyone cleans up and leaves, okay?"

"No. I gotta go skate." I tried to get up.

"No!" several people exclaimed.

"What?" I snapped.

Minami held me tight. "Stay here with me, okay, Yuuri-san? Let's just relax down here for a bit."

"But you're not Viktor."

"T-that's okay."

I nuzzled the warm cloth against my cheek and lay my head down. I could hear lungs taking shallow breaths, and a heartbeat fluttering like a bird's wings.

"You're all worked up," I grumbled.

Minami let out a shaky laugh. "I'm just happy, is all."

End Chapter Fifteen


	16. Chapter 16

Three days later  
Viktor

Love was a weird thing.

It filled you up and supported you where you stood. You realized that before, you had been walking on your own strength. But then you learned what it felt like to walk alongside someone. Love made you stronger, but it also made you unable to go without love from there onward.

I reclaimed my world records from Katsuki Yuuri and Yuuri Plisetsky in two nights. But every time I turned around at the interviews afterwards, I couldn't understand why he wasn't there. I kept waiting for his thigh to touch mine sitting next to me at the kiss and cry, his hand to slip into mine as we casually stood together. Where were his ecstatic hugs and kisses? Wouldn't he have jumped into my arms after I left the ice? How did he even react?

We had agreed to do nationals separately, because they were too close together, and we had to focus. This was for the best, but every other thought in my head was my heart asking why he wasn't here with me. Did this ever get easier?

Finally back in St. Petersburg after nationals in Moscow, it was our first morning back to training after the heavy partying and sleeping it off. I laced up my skates, but hesitated going to the ice. I ran my hands through my hair. Yuuri and I had agreed that we'd keep texting to a minimum to avoid distraction, but he hadn't even sent me anything since Nationals. Not even a "good job" or something. I wondered if something was wrong. Even in his complete absence, Yuuri was distracting me.

Yurio's skates stopped in front of me.

I looked up and smirked as Yurio stood proudly in front of me, for once taller because I was sitting down.

So I stood up, and towered over him like usual, a smug smile on my face because I knew he hated it.

As predicted, Yurio clenched his jaw as I leaned in, but then his eyes slid to the side in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. I immediately picked up on it. This kid was tough, but he was ultimately twelve years younger than me.

I said nothing, knowing that if I asked him what was wrong, he would lash out from spite. He had to come to me with it.

"Will you stay in my apartment?" He looked up at me, his eyes angry but also scared.

What the—?

"Why?" is all I managed. I'd been crashing his apartment, since Yurio still technically lived at Lilia's. But I was sick of not having my own flat. It shouldn't take me weeks to find an apartment in this city.

Yurio took a step back from me and lifted up his shirt a little. He turned around.

At first I didn't know what I was looking at. Then at the base of his spine, I noticed a thin layer of shimmering against his porcelain skin. Pale pink.

I stepped toward him and ran my fingers along it gently. Yurio hissed.

Stretch marks.

"You should tell Yakov about this," I said.

"I don't want to." I could hear in his tone that he knew it still needed to be done.

"Why do you want me to stay in your place?" Makkachin was about to go nuts living in a place that smelled like a cat but didn't actually have a cat in it.

Yurio pulled his shirt down. He wore that pouty face that he himself didn't know about, but that made his fangirls swoon. "If I come over in the evenings, will you put some cream on it or something?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Provided you get the cream from Yakov's physician."

Yurio sighed. "Fine."

I could tell there was something else he wanted to say. I crossed my arms and popped a hip, raising my eyebrows at him.

Yurio scratched the back of his neck. "Did you grow fast?"

"Kind of," I said. "I skipped a Junior European championships when I was fourteen and lost my chance to qualify for Worlds."

Yurio spluttered. "I didn't know that."

"You were exactly two years old then."

Fucking brat. After dropping out of the European Championships and ending my season early, I'd come back the next season with a vengeance, grown for the most part and having kept most of my jumps; I took the world championships. I'd stayed in Juniors one more year though, just in case my growing wasn't done yet. In a way, Yakov letting Yurio into seniors before his growth spurt had been a huge mistake. But with a personality like Yurio's, it was hard to keep him from a competition pool when he didn't have any rivals in the Juniors. Yurio risked burnout, though, just like Yulia Lipnitskaia and so many others.

Before I could answer Yurio, Yakov came and in walked right past Yurio to me. "That wasn't a reclamation of your records," he growled, his face beet red with anger. "I don't care what they say. The judges were influenced by the crowd. If I'd been on the panel you'd still be chasing Katsuki Yuuri."

Yurio clenched his fists.

The crowd had surprised me with its voracity, but I was too lonely to really let it go to my head. I nodded and Yakov returned the nod, seeing that I got the message.

Yakov looked at Yurio. Yurio touched eyes with me and stalked out.

Yakov waited for him to leave.

I appraised my coach. What was all this secrecy about?

The door shut behind Yurio and Yakov turned to me. "I think it wise for you to keep a low profile."

I blinked. Mila had shown me the newspaper the next morning. That cute little girl I'd hefted on my shoulder got the full page spread with me. People were fucking loving it.

"I'm just skating," I said defensively. "Things will calm down."

Yakov crossed his arms and huffed. "You never run anything by me beforehand, you foolish child. Using a poem written by a gay kid who was killed after the Gay Propaganda passed? Why didn't you tell me this? What are you thinking?"

I let a breath out in a whoosh and gave a desperate shrug, pacing a few steps to give me some relief from Yakov's piercing stare. Why did he expect me to articulate this? Yakov had always let me pick my routines and inspirations wherever I'd found them. It wasn't something I could so easily put into words, and I'd never had to.

I opted for the truth. "Katsuki Yuuri doesn't want to come to Saint Petersburg because he's scared about getting targeted for being openly gay here," I finally said by way of explanation. "It isn't because he doesn't want to work with you."

Yakov snorted derisively, then when I did not respond, he sighed. "I had a skating partner who practiced under the same coach as me through my entire career in seniors. His name was Peter Slutskaia."

I shook my head.

"You haven't heard his name, because he dropped out of figure skating well before his prime. Had he stayed in, he would have become a household name in Russia. He certainly would have surpassed me. He could lay me out flat just in practice," Yakov continued. "Back then, it was not common to talk about being gay in Russia, but Peter had the unfortunate qualities that caused everyone to already know. He couldn't escape it. When we'd hit the bars together, eventually he'd get drunk enough to bemoan that he wasn't in Western Europe, where gay men ran around in broad daylight."

I made a sympathetic face, but my stomach was twisting with dread at where this story could potentially go. "What happened to him?"

Yakov shrugged. "It eventually became hard enough that he had to leave. He got accepted to a college in Paris and quit skating in order to go. I tried to look him up years later, but he basically disappeared from the skating world and started a different life. All of that potential, simply wasted, because of a fear of recrimination for something he couldn't help."

"That's too bad," I said. I didn't see how it applied to me. I wasn't going anywhere. I guessed if things actually got bad, I could return to Japan, if the embassy would let me, but I had a job to do and I wasn't backing down from it.

Yakov met my determined glare with a beseeching look of his own. "Back down. Just a bit, Vitya. I'm worried—"

"It's just figure skating," I snapped. "People can take from it what they want, but I'm here without my partner because of this stupid law, and I'm not going to keep quiet about it."

Yakov practically growled under his breath.

I stood my ground.

"The President was asked to comment on your routine at his press meeting this morning," Yakov said.

"On my routine? Has he even seen me skate?"

"He did at the Sochi Olympics."

I threw my hands in the air. "That was a very long time ago."

"Don't fight me on this!" Yakov full-on shouted at me.

Someone had been about to enter the locker room then changed their minds.

"You've been requested to make an appearance at a pre-Olympic rally next week," Yakov continued, his voice still shrill. "Don't answer any questions that do not directly pertain to figure skating and representing Russia or whatever they talk about at these things. Do you understand me?"

"I wasn't planning on talking about it!" I shrieked. "I'm skating. If I wanted to talk about this I'd become some kind of activist! I'd be on Oprah!"

"You basically have from the way people are reacting to your routine online," Yakov said, his voice finally taking on the fatherly tone he only used with his younger skaters. I wondered why he was using it now with me. "People are putting a lot more on this than just your return to skating. New petitions have popped up to repeal the law, and this all just in reaction to your performance at Nationals. There was a rally in Moscow the morning we left."

Whoa. I didn't know any of that. Though in truth, if things changed, then Yuuri could come and live with me here, and everything would be alright.

"I'll keep a low profile," I promised. "I wasn't planning on talking explicitly about it, online or elsewhere. My only intention was to let my skating speak for itself."

Yakov eventually nodded. "Good."

He left and I finally got out of the damn locker room to go skate. I passed Yurio at the doorway. No doubt he had heard the whole thing.

End Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate any comments from readers :D. Comments keep me going.


	17. Chapter 17

_Viktor_

Yurio started coming over in the evenings so I could smooth a cream on his back for the stretch marks. He finally confessed to me that he ached everywhere. His joints felt like they were being pulled apart and his bones _'fuc_ _king hurt'_ apparently. There was nothing I could do to help him. Athletes push their bodies past the limits of normalcy, with figure skating being one of the worst. The body would do what it wanted now, and all we could do was feed him a truckload of healthy food and let him sleep when he needed it. It was a really good thing that Yurio was living with Lilia, who had a professional chef and servants that would tend to most of his needs, though apparently he was unwilling to let her maids touch him.

Yurio came over to watch the stream of Japanese nationals on TV. Makkachin freaked out that Yurio smelled like the cat that once lived in this apartment, and yet still there was no cat. The mystery continued.

I loaded the stream while Yurio proceeded to eat everything in the fridge and then demand I order delivery. I placed the order and contemplated asking the restaurant to bring me a couple of beers, because I would see my lover on TV tonight, but he would be thousands of miles away.

The Japanese broadcast started with the lower-ranked skaters, and there were more than a few rising talents that were a delight to watch. Yuuri was certainly paving the way to a Japanese male figure skating era.

Of course, before the commercial breaks they cut to Yuuri, stretching and warming up with his new coach, his _kouhai_ Minami never too far away. Mari-neechan had surprised me the morning after the Russian Nationals by sending me a photo that made me do a doubletake. Minami and Yuuri were asleep in Yuuri's bed, shirtless. Minami even in his sleep was hugging Yuuri for all he was worth, and from Yuuri's pained expression it looked like he wasn't sleeping well as a result.

_"Uh… is this okay?" Mari-neechan had texted me._

_Totally floored, I'd stared at the photo for a good ten minutes._

_"I'm completely okay with this," I'd texted back. Because what else could I do?_

The Japanese broadcast, from what I could tell visually and from the delayed closed captioning of a super fan on the livestream doing it in English, kept coming back to the concept of the senpai-kouhai relationship and the legacy that Katsuki Yuuri was setting for the younger male figure skaters of Japan. Apparently in the off season, Yuuri's new coach was going to host a training camp for Japan's brightest and have Yuuri make a daily appearance to cheer them on. Yuuri was featured in commercials and TV shows, posters and billboards.

He'd even guest commentated for two episodes of _Terrace House_ , a Netflix original that the internet speculated was an attempt to encourage young Japanese to have sex (and therefore babies? Who knew?). It was no surprise to me that Yuuri could be considered for his sex appeal, but his bashful confidence charmed everyone he came across. Phichit-kun's feed was full of Yuuri, so I followed my partner's best friend to keep tabs on my partner. Sigh.

Minami-kun's turn came. He skated with the fervor of the young, and although he didn't have a single quad in competition yet, he was going to be a force to be reckoned with once he did. He reminded me of myself in my early years, so full of aspiration and blowing the performance scores out of the water. He very well could qualify for the Four Continents even without a quad. I looked forward to it.

Minami-kun scored a personal best, and the interviewer pounced on him once he left the kiss and cry.

"Congratulations on your best score! Minami-kun, how has training with Katsuki Yuuri influenced your skating?"

Minami-kun got even more red-faced. "Training with my idol has been a dream come true."

"Barf," Yurio said next to me.

I bumped his shoulder with mine. Makkachin kept trying to crawl into Yurio's lap and Yurio wasn't having it.

"Will you continue to train with him in the future?" the interviewer asked.

Minami nodded enthusiastically. "I know that Yuuri misses Viktor-san, but for the time that Yuuri is in Japan, we will continue training together."

Yurio laughed. "The minion let the cat out of the bag!"

"No kidding," I said with a laugh.

Now it was Yuuri's turn to skate.

Again he was announced as Japan's late bloomer. I couldn't help but blush. He had certainly bloomed and shown me new worlds, despite my background. My body missed him.

"Cheesebag," Yurio grumbled.

The crowd cheered for Yuuri, but it was immediately made clear by the announcer that due to broadcasting restrictions the skater would need to start exactly on time to guarantee that his performance be covered for the audience at home. What a thoroughly Japanese way to make sure that nothing like what happened to me occurred in Osaka tonight.

Yuuri started his short program.

I could tell he had been working on his flexibility as well, not just when he was helping me with it weeks ago. His sensuousness had a liquid quality to it that rivaled the female skaters. Chris could still do outward sex appeal, but this withheld yet burning fire was all Yuuri's. What once was virginal desire was now deliberately suppressed as if a forbidden love, the hiding of something more true than what could ever be proposed by the surrounding society. Knowing that I was Yuuri's secret stole my breath away.

"He's leveled up," Yurio whispered, then gritted his teeth when Yuuri landed a quad triple like it was nothing. "It's only nationals. He shouldn't be going all out like this."

"You gave it everything you had last week," I countered. Of course I knew why.

"Yeah because _you_ —argh!"

Yuuri landed a quad toe loop, my jump, at such speed I gasped. And at the end of the program too! Why was his coach letting him do this? He risked injury. I clenched a fist, worried even though I knew that Yuuri was strong.

He finished to resounding applause, but still managed to humbly bow and wave, panting for all he was worth. That had pushed it, and you could tell. I shook my head, proud of him and secretly wishing Yurio weren't here so I could experience this moment privately.

"That might take your record back," Yuuri said.

I shook my head. "The judges will be more impartial tonight."

Yurio's eyes bugged out at me. "You think you got the world records because you were in Russia?"

"I think I'd have to do it twice to really be sure." There was no way for me to know that the riot in the arena hadn't affected the judges' scores. At no other time had the crowd actually delayed a skater's start by that much. Everyone was so happy, I'd almost felt bad that my routine was titled Despair. Almost.

With one last wave and bow, Yuuri left the ice and walked to the kiss and cry. When his coach joined him on the bench, Yuuri jumped up and bowed to his coach.

I sucked in my breath.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Yurio asked. "He never did that with you."

"No," I said, "but Yuzuru Hanyu did that with his coach. All major Japanese male figure skaters have." Yuuri was continuing a precedent. His coach bowed back, remaining seated.

Yuuri's scores were high, a personal best, but not high enough to retake the world record from me. I admit I'd been a bit overzealous the other night. That, and the judges had favored me.

The interviewer rushed up to Yuuri.

"Congratulations on your new personal best!"

Yuuri nodded deeply to the interviewer and thanked him. I realized it was Morooka.

"We surveyed the audience tonight," Morooka said. "The most tweeted question they wanted me to ask you, is if you have a challenge to issue Viktor Nikoforov and Yuri Plisetsky this evening."

Chris and the others would be livid they were being left out of this. I smiled.

"No," Yuuri said simply. "My skating speaks for itself, and I'm more worried that Phichit or Chris or Otabek or JJ will overtake me. I cannot issue challenges directly."

Morooka scrambled to hold Yuuri there with him, while to my surprise the crowd got really loud at Yuuri's comment. What a way to bring everyone back into the game, Yuuri. He'd listed off the Grand Prix Finalists so fast the translator was struggling with the rapid fire Japanese. It was an inclusive answer to a divisive question, and the audience liked his humility.

"Yuuri-kun," Morooka finally stopped him again. "Then on a more personal note, is there something you would like to say to Viktor Nikiforov tonight?"

Yuuri cocked an eyebrow at him and called the interviewer's bluff. "He is no longer my coach."

"Yes, but," Morooka cleared his throat and went for it. "We have all witnessed your deep friendship over the past months."

"You could call it that," Yuuri admitted, "but it would be skirting the truth."

Holy shit.

"Yuuri-kun," Morooka beseeched, as if pleading for Yuuri to give him a break and not admit to an openly gay relationship on live television. "Is there nothing you would say to your beloved Viktor tonight?"

I knew that phrase could be as ambiguous in Japanese as it was in Russian.

Yurio snorted. "Anything you have to say to your man who's been taking it up the—"

I socked him in the arm, hard.

"Hey!"

"You deserved that," I said. _And you're jealous that you don't know how awesome it is._

Yuuri finally relented. He looked right at the camera, and his facial expression changed. Relaxed. Then I realized: he was imagining that he was looking at me. Tears sprang to my eyes. I could not stop their fall.

Then the moment ended, and Yuuri's expression turned playful.

He cocked his chin at what must be the direction of the audience and spoke in confident Japanese. I cursed my half-hearted studying, that I couldn't hear my lover for what he was really saying, and had to rely on the translator frantically typing live, had to hear the startled the rejoicing reaction of the audience before I even knew why—

"Japan is a great place to live, Viktor," Yuuri said. "Maybe one day we can get married here."

Yurio and I gasped.

Yuuri's coach practically shrieked next to him. Minami jumped in the air and pumped his fists.

Morooka turned to the camera, his face completely red, and announced the time for the broadcast of the free skate program tomorrow and bid everyone a good night.

The live stream ended.

I let out a sigh that sounded dramatic even for me. I was so painfully empty.

"He leap-frogged on the gay rights stuff," Yurio snipped, still rubbing his arm. "Put it all out there, instead of your emo bullshit in your routines."

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"It's _my_ apartment."

"Get out." I swiped at my eyes.

Yurio stood from the couch and looked down at me. I don't think I'd ever seen actual concern in his eyes. I briefly wondered if he was sick.

"Do you need a hug?" he said softly.

I huffed. "No." _Not from you, you brat._

"You hugged me at the Grand Prix finals," Yurio said, unperturbed. "It made me feel a lot better. Consider us even."

I looked at him at that. Twelve years separated us, and although a veritable athlete, this child was still a piece of shit, but I wondered if his growing pains would turn him into a man who could actually be my friend.

I nodded, and Yurio bent down and hugged me.

I wrapped my arms around his thin frame. His back was so bony, my forearms slid over the bumps of his ribs below his shoulder blades.

"You're skin and bones," I said in dismay.

"I'm fucking hungry!" he shouted too close to my ear. Ouch.

"Did you put my leftovers in the fridge?" I asked.

"I fucking ate them!"

Despite myself, I laughed. "I'll order more tomorrow night. Come over anytime you need the lotion on your back or you need me to feed you."

Yurio pulled out of the hug. "I'll hold you to that."

I smirked. "Gotta feed the little piggy."

Yurio's eyes lit with rage. I'd used the same word he teased Yuuri with in Japanese. _De~bu_.

Yurio stormed out, leaving me alone with Makkachin.

End Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments much appreciated! I'm uploading three chapters now because I'll be out of town for a week and unable to post. Please enjoy and I look forward to hearing from anyone. <3


	18. Chapter 18

_Viktor_

I waited a few days, to let Yuuri shine in his light, but by the next week, I had to respond to his challenge. There was good reason I was back in Russia. I needed a coach, because I was pulling out the rest of the stops from now on.

"Mila," I called her over with a playful smirk I knew she loved.

Mila stopped in front of me, eyes begging to get in on the mischief I had planned.

I handed her my phone with a wink. Yurio joined her at the side of the rink while Mila grinned and got the video started on me.

The ice was clear except for me, considering the three of us were the earliest risers of Yakov's students (and also the most successful, not a coincidence).

I looped the ice, getting into gear mentally. I felt the jump in my legs, feeling it in my back, picturing it in my mind's eye, seeing it happen.

The first loop around I didn't have it. Pick up some speed, loop again.

"What's he doing?" I heard Yurio say when I swept by them.

"Viktor's about to Mao Asada us," Mila said with confidence.

I grinned. She'd read my mind. Mao Asada, an adorable tiny female Japanese skater from the 2000s, remained the only woman in the world to have landed a quad in competition.

_This is for you, Yuuri._

I looped around, twisting my hips back and forth, pumping my legs. I curled my arms up and lifted but at the last second held back and popped it, landing clean, knowing I'd had it then and I would next time.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Yurio called across the rink.

_I've got it this time._

I picked up speed. Going into it from the front. Up! Tuck, get the rotations—

Landed.

Arms out wide, breathe, breathe.

"You've got to be _fucking_ kidding me!" Yurio screeched.

Mila cheered, full lung power.

I kicked into a spin, pulled into the moment and wanting it to last longer, wanting Yuuri to be here with me, to have seen it.

Then I spun out and skated hard one step, two, then sunk back into the Ina Bauer that Katsuki Yuuri had taught me. All the way back, like Yuzuru Hanyu, like no Russian man had ever hoped to achieve, but my Japanese darling had pulled this off with poise and grace.

"I love you Yuuri!" I shouted in English, sinking back as far as I could.

"Davai!" Mila cheered.

Then I shouted it in Japanese for good measure. "Yuuri! Aishteiruyo!"

"DAVAI!" Mila and Yurio screamed.

Then I shouted it in Russian.

#

 _Yuuri_ 勇利

The best part about letting Hayakawa film a short "day in the life" documentary of me with Minami and Coach Kanako was that Hayakawa had to learn to skate so he could do the filming himself.

I for the most part ignored him and practiced my footwork, which Kanako had been nitpicking since finals. She repeatedly claimed that I'd won nationals (above her own student) because of the jumps, and since I tended to flub my jumps when I got nervous, there was no guarantee that I was actually competitive at the Four Continents and Worlds right now. Harsh.

Minami circled his part of the rink, working on his spins. I swear that boy could put his heart and soul into a spin.

Hayakawa wobbled with his camera and I suppressed a laugh.

 _"Shuuchuu!"_ Kanako shouted. Focus!

I got back into the zone and ran through my first step sequence of the free skate.

I paused at the end to see what Kanako might think, only to find her at the side of the rink watching something on Yuko's phone. Even Hayakawa had moved his camera from me to whatever was going on over there.

Kanako bolted upright and covered her mouth with her hands. Yuko cheered and Nishigori and the triplets were wrestling to get a view.

Minami looked at me for an explanation, and when I had none, skated over. "What's going on?"

"No!" Kanako shouted. Her pointed finger stopped Minami in his tracks. "You can't see this! Get back to work!"

Minami turned back toward me and skated over, visibly bruised and at a loss.

"Do you want to see it, Yuuri-kun?"

I looked back over at Hayakawa, who'd trained his camera back on me. I saw his grin, and the phone he held out in his free hand.

I tossed my hair out of my eyes with a flick of my head. "What is it?"

Hayakawa's grin grew wider, because we both knew he got more viewers the cuter I looked, and I was finally picking up on how to make that happen. I'd met his wife—he was happily married—but this man had straddled my face and photographed me on a bed surrounded by my medals and looking like I'd just been fucked. We had an agreement.

I skated a little closer, sashaying my hips a little more than necessary to come to a stop. "What is it?"

"Viktor's on Youtube," Hayakawa said, waving the phone.

I put a hand on my hip and threw my best devil-may-care face. "Confessing his love?"

"Well, that's part of it," he said.

My heart jumped. I hadn't expected that to actually be true. My face burned and I knew I couldn't keep the act up anymore.

"The other part is Viktor landing a quad axel."

My face fell.

"What?!" Minami screeched.

"Off the ice, now!" Kanako shouted. "Both of you! No attempts! If you so much as even think about attempting it I'll ground you both!"

I reached my hand out to Hayakawa as if the rest of the world did not exist. He placed his phone in my hand.

Minami skated into my embrace and I wrapped an arm around him. Hayakawa said the viewers loved it when I did that. All that _senpai-kouhai_ love.

The Youtube video was titled "Viktor Nikiforov Lands Quad Axel."

No one since Hanyu Yuzuru had done that, and never had it been done in competition. It set a dangerous precedent that could lead to injuries. No wonder Coach was so angry.

The video loaded and Minami snuggled into my chest to watch.

Mila must be recording it based on the number of times she told Yurio to shut the hell up. I knew that word in Russian, at least. I wondered where Yakov was at a time like this.

Viktor looped the ice and popped a jump. I smiled despite myself. Hayakawa had moved close, his camera right in our faces.

Going in from the front, don't hurt yourself, up yes—

Pow.

A quad axel.

He'd landed it, but he'd been so close to the ground he'd basically had to completely rise up on his right leg in some kind of epic lunge.

Minami gaped at the phone and for once couldn't even squeal.

I handed the phone out to Hayakawa. "Jumps aren't everything. One bad injury could end your career." I was frustrated that Viktor was raising the bar like this, through athleticism only, not also art.

"Keep watching," Hayakawa said.

I looked up at him, then back down at the phone, pulling it back to Minami.

Viktor was spinning, as if this video didn't already have enough dramatic flair. Then he pushed out and sunk back into his Ina Bauer.

"I love you Yuuri!" he shouted in English.

"Davai!" Mila shouted in response.

I laughed, but it wasn't funny. My eyes burned and I screwed up my face. I really didn't want to fall apart right in front of the camera.

"Yuuri! _Aishiteiruyo!_ "

That got Minami to bolt up straight against me and squeal.

"DAVAI!" Mila and Yurio shouted. I couldn't believe the rascal even joined in.

"Davai," I whispered, the tears spilling out on my cheeks.

Then he said it in Russian. Shouted it to the whole world.

I handed the phone back to Hayakawa and hid my face in Minami's hair. It was the hug I gave him when I was breaking to pieces and I needed Minami to watch where all the shards fell so we could pick them back up later. Minami responded immediately, gripping the back of my jacket with all his might.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, but that just squeezed the tears out. Hayakawa was up in my face and I hated it so much.

"I'm sorry you have to hug me like a child," Minami said against my chest, pulling my attention to him.

_Viktor._

"You'll grow up soon enough," I promised Minami, begging him for the distraction, to pull me away.

_Viktor._

"I'll grow up and hug you like a man," Minami swore to me.

_Viktor._

"You do that," I told my _kouhai._ "I'll be here."

End Chapter Eighteen


	19. Chapter 19

_Yuuri_

Hayakawa had Keiko-chan and another cameraman (this documentary's equivalent of "all hands on deck") for my departure to St. Petersburg, where I would be training with Yakov for a week and spending time with Viktor. Then I would return to Japan to prepare for the Four Continents while Viktor and Yurio competed in the European Championship.

For the first time, Minami-kun had scored high enough at Nationals (even with no quads) to qualify for Four Continents.

I bumped fists with him. "See you when I get back."

"Yeah." Minami's eyes blazed with determination. We both knew what he was thinking about—Kanako had finally given him permission to add a quad to his program, potentially even a second one, if he kept his enthusiasm in check and didn't do anything stupid.

Keiko gave us a pleading look. I touched eyes with Minami and we shared that thought too—all that fanservice for the camera. It wasn't like it was forced, though. My family and friends kept me held together in my non-skating life, but Minami and Coach Kanako had been critical in keeping me held together on the ice. Something about discovering love also meant discovering this gaping hole in your heart that love had filled. I wasn't sure I liked it, on the hard days.

I held my arms out in invitation. Minami grinned, stepped into my arms curled against my chest.

Nishigori walked by with a box of skates in his arms, oblivious to the cameras. "He's only leaving for a week! God, you act like newlyweds!"

"You see what I have to deal with?" Kanako said, a smile in her tone.

I couldn't help it. I laughed, tucking around Minami to try to hide the shaking of my shoulders. Then I felt him trembling with laughter as well, curling into my chest to hide his red cheeks, but the cameras would catch those red ears for sure. I kissed his hair and rested my cheek on top of his head. I felt Minami sigh against me and relax.

We stepped apart. I shook Kanako's hand. "Thank you for your guidance these past few weeks. Hopefully this week apart will relieve some of the burden I have been to you."

Kanako gripped my hand hard. "Come back ready to represent Japan. I won't go easy on you."

"Understood," I said.

Hayakawa followed me out to the taxi that would take me to the train station.

"Are you excited to get to train with Coach Yakov and to get to see Viktor?" Keiko asked in the taxi.

"Of course." I smiled.

Her face fell. "It's also got to be hard, right?"

I read her thoughts and nodded slowly. "Viktor and I have had a whirlwind relationship because it started during the skating season. That, and I've never been in a relationship before, so it's all new for me. Everything."

Keiko gaped at me. Hayakawa grinned, the camera still in his hands and rolling.

My expression turned soft as soothing warmth filled my chest, the fullness of being accepted, supported and loved.

"If our feelings are really such that warrant a long-term commitment..." I held up my hand to show my ring. "If this really means forever, then we've got all the time in the world to sort things out. We've got our entire lives."

"No biological clock ticking for you," Hayakawa remarked, no doubt thinking of his kids.

Keiko play-punched him. I smiled and agreed.

"Plus," I added. "Viktor leveled up my skating at the Grand Prix finals—"

"No, _you_ leveled up your skating!" Hayakawa interrupted.

"Well, either way." I pushed onward, unwilling to take the credit on that. "I'm floundering around at this higher level I've never been to before, and it's hard to not doubt myself where I am now. I feel like a tightrope walker at a new height, and everyone is telling me to look down, but I know if I do that I will fall."

I blushed. I'd had no intention of disclosing this insecurity. Though I felt like I knew Keiko and definitely Hayakawa, I still normally would never tell them something like this, much less to the camera.

"It's good you have support then," Keiko said.

I nodded, the flush still burning my cheeks. "Without Coach Kanako and Minami, I'd be totally lost right now."

I bid them goodbye at the shinkansen station, because Hayakawa had been denied permission to enter Russia because he was filming a documentary that normalized gay boys. He thus wouldn't have any footage for my week in St. Petersburg, and I certainly had no time to take videos myself, what with the amount of training I'd planned with Yakov. Someone like Phichit-kun would emerge with tons of media from a thing like this, but that was just his default setting.

I managed to sleep on the flight. I got on a taxi from the airport and accidentally had him drop me off a block downtown from where Viktor had said, on the other side of the bridge. I jogged the rest of the way, the crisp Russian air burning my lungs. I thought about who I was compared to a year ago, when I had quit my coach and moved from Detroit back to Hasetsu without a direction. I thought of all the people who had helped me this last year.

_There are some dreams too big for one person to carry alone._

I rounded the top of the bridge and saw Viktor waiting with Yurio. Makkachin noticed me first and yipped.

Viktor's ears were pink from the cold. He flung a hand in the air and yelled my name.

"Yuuri!"

#

Viktor ran toward me and I sprinted the rest of the way. I jumped in his arms and he swung me around. Viktor squeezed me so hard I could barely breathe.

"You're here," Viktor said in Japanese. "I'm so glad."

"I am," I replied.

I clung to him until my arms trembled and Viktor was kissing the top of my head over and over.

I let go of him and grabbed his face and kissed. His lips were so cold and his nose was a little snotty, but it was rain in the desert.

"Aw man," Yurio grumbled. "People are taking photos. Come on Viktor, Yuuri, let's stop."

That just made Viktor kiss me harder, and throw in some tongue. I didn't argue.

"Oh fuck, guys." Yurio actually sounded a little scared now.

I could hear him stomping around and shooing people away like flies. People around us sounded very accosted in Russian.

"I swear to god, if you start to chew his face off right here, I'm going to throw you off this bridge," Yurio threatened Viktor, or me, who knew.

We pulled apart. Viktor kissed me on the forehead and took my hand and led me along.

Indeed there were still some people—mostly young, no real paparazzi—taking video even as we walked away. So our kiss might wind up on Youtube. I didn't care.

Yurio finally calmed down enough to scowl at me as we waited at the bus stop. "How's it going, Yuuri?"

I was watching Viktor put a muzzle on Makkachin so the dog could get on public transit. Makkachin seemed to know the drill and wasn't perturbed by it.

"Uh, hey Yurio, how's it going?"

"It's fine," Yurio said softly, referring to the muzzled dog.

I watched as Makkachin pawed at Yurio's leg and Yurio let him. There was something in the way Yurio's stone face could still fail to mask affection and I read him like a book. That was so cute.

We got to an apartment block and Yurio swiped his card to get us in the building. Yurio punched the button for the elevator and eyed us warily.

"Yuuri, have I told you about my current living arrangements?" Viktor asked.

I blinked. "Not really." We'd both been a little bit busy for that, duh?

Viktor and Yurio were having a telepathy standoff. The elevator dinged and Makkachin led the way inside.

The elevator doors shut without any of its occupants making a sound.

"Yuuri," Viktor addressed me, though he was still facing a very angry looking Yurio who stood on the other side of the elevator with his arms crossed and his stance wide. "I am currently crashing Yurio's apartment because Yulia Baranovska made him move in with her for his training."

"Oh, that's cool," I said neutrally. What was the big deal?

"I sold my furniture before coming to Japan, so I'm using all Yurio's stuff," Viktor continued. "His kitchen, his bed—"

" _No_ ," Yurio hissed.

"And our dear Yurio here has just realized that I'm about to take my lover upstairs and fuck on his bed—"

"NO," Yurio screeched, tugging at his hair.

"Would you rather me suck Yuuri's dick on your couch—"

"AAAAH," Yurio screamed, covering his ears. "Aaaaaah!"

I dropped to the floor and hugged Makkachin to me as the two Russians shouted at each other. "Don't listen, Makkachin, let me cover your ears—"

"Don't you _fucking dare—"_

The elevator dinged open. I'd never seen Viktor get someone in a headlock so fast. He covered Yurio's mouth and almost got kicked in the nuts for it.

The doors opened to a hunched over grandma who grimaced at us. She said something and Viktor responded gently. It was a conversation understandable no matter the language: 'Is this going down?' 'It's going up, madam.' 'Oh drat I hit the wrong button.'

The door closed again with excruciating slowness. I realized in horror that Viktor had delivered the entire exchange with the old woman with Yurio still in a gagged headlock.

We rode three more floors up, as frozen as statues, only Makkachin's panting and the inner workings of the machine around us breaking the silence.

"I want rent for this," Yurio said in English, meaning he wanted it from me too. "I'm not letting you crash my place for free if you're having butt sex on my bed."

"Language," Viktor said sternly. We were still in the hallway, then softer, "You won the Grand Prix Finals. You're rolling in it."

"Yeah, go dip your sword in the silver piggy there."

Viktor clenched his jaw and I felt the same feeling rise within me. _Shut the f*ck up._

Viktor pulled out his keys and unlocked the door at the end of the hall.

But he didn't open the door. Instead, he looked at Yurio.

I watched as Yurio's expression changed from mild annoyance to surprise to denial. "But I thought we were going to hang out first."

"We're going to sword fight first," Viktor said simply.

Yurio gasped and then growled, his fists clenched. He glared at me and then stalked off.

I turned around to face Viktor and saw how tired I felt reflected in his posture.

He managed a soft smile as Makkachin was losing his shit trying to get into the apartment. "Home sweet home."

Indeed the cozy little apartment had Yurio's touch to it, though I could tell Viktor had tried to add some more adult taste in here and there. It mostly looked like Viktor had simplified things: there were empty spaces on the wall where clearly a larger poster had been thumbtacked in, but now hung a smaller painting. One bookshelf was overflowing with boxes but had a bed sheet draped over it. For free rent, it wasn't bad at all.

"Nice place," I said congenially while Viktor took Makkachin's leash and harness off.

"I love Saint Petersburg," Viktor said, "but I miss my room at your folks' place. I miss Hasetsu too."

"That old room," I scoffed. "No way you miss that."

"I do," he said, and I believed him.

Now that we were alone, Viktor came to me and I wrapped him in my arms again.

"I missed you," he said softly.

"I missed you too," I said.

"We don't have to do anything now if you don't want to." Viktor's voice was guilty. "I just wanted some privacy from the paper tiger."

I smiled. What a fitting name for Yurio.

"I want to," I said. "But first, I need to shower. I'm covered in airport." I sensed I was going to crash from jet lag eventually too, but maybe a shower would wake me up enough for some tumbling in the sheets.

Viktor nodded back to where the bathroom must be. "I'll fix something easy to eat while you're in there."

That night, after making love, we lay in the bed, me dozing (at only 8pm) while Viktor scrolled through his social media on his phone.

"That photographer is making a killing off you," Viktor said.

I scooted up against his shoulder to see his phone. It was little video snippets of the documentary Hayakawa was filming, mostly of me and Minami-kun.

Viktor carded his fingers through my hair.

"Are you keeping up to date on your boyfriend by following him on Youtube?" I teased.

Viktor snorted. "It's not like you post anything for me."

I didn't have time for stuff like that. _You'll just have to move back in with me if you want to see what I'm doing. In Japan._

I made no comment.

"Why do you let him film such intimate moments?" Viktor asked.

I tried to get a look at his expression, but it was mostly guarded and I didn't have my glasses on, so I couldn't really read what he was saying with his eyes. I kissed the stubble on his cheek and settled back down.

"You're skating on behalf of silenced LGBT people," I said.

"I'm skating because I want to openly be with you," he replied.

"However you put it," I said, "I wanted to do something the Japanese way. Since rebellion would be met with resistance, I'm allowing Hayakawa to show how normal it is for me to be the way I am. I'm using my popularity to educate the people who still think LGBT people either don't exist in Japan, or that they're freaks."

Viktor's expression turned hard. His eyes were unfocused, not really looking at the phone in front of him.

"What's made you angry?" I asked.

Viktor was silent another moment. I saw his jaw clench and release.

"I'm not rebelling, either. People who see it that way are wrong," he said.

I did not apologize. "Russians will see what you're doing as a rebellion. You have to know the risks."

Viktor sighed, exasperated. "You and Yakov."

I smirked, amused me and Viktor's grouchy coach felt the same way about something.

"Why are you doing it, then?" I asked, as gently as I could. I didn't want to undercut what he was doing, I was just genuinely curious, and needed to know his motivations in order to support him.

Viktor's sigh was righteously furious and fucking tragic. He curled his arm around the side of my head and held me to him.

"I want to marry you, Yuuri."

I liked being in such a tight embrace, but it also meant I couldn't see Viktor's facial expression when he said this. "I know. I do too."

"But I legally can't marry you, in either of our countries. It doesn't matter if Japanese people are by and large nicer about it in the media. Neither of us have citizenship in a place that will allow us to marry each other."

I could feel the rage radiating off him. "The legality of it isn't everything. It's how we feel about each other," I said.

"No, it isn't." Viktor released me and sat up.

I scrambled to keep track of his emotions as he sat on the edge of the bed facing away from me. Knees apart, elbows pressed into his thighs, head bowed.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked. I was way too tired to be having this conversation right now, but apparently it needed to happen.

Viktor didn't look at me. "I want you to be my legal partner. My family isn't shitty—they supported me getting into skating when I was younger, and in turn I send them money—but we're not that close. Not nearly as close as you are with your family. I've been living apart from my family since age eleven when I crossed the country to train in Saint Petersburg."

Holy shit. "That's a really young age." I assumed he was in some kind of athletic youth dorm or something.

Viktor scrubbed his face with his hands. "I want you to have the legal authority to make decisions for me if I ever can't make them for myself. With the way things are, I feel vulnerable, and I hate it. If I knew you were designated by law to protect me, I would feel so much safer."

The way he worded that answer broke my heart.

I had no idea things were like that between Viktor and his family. He never talked about them. I could only imagine what it had been like to leave everything he knew at such a young age, yet Viktor was already medaling at Junior World Championships by then.

I crawled over to where he sat and leaned my chest against his back, wrapping my arms around his stomach, my face nuzzling his neck.

"I want that too," I said, "but until we get that, you can't let this poison you. You can't let stupid people and stupid laws get to you."

Viktor seemed to deflate from his earlier anger. I took note of my methods, to be sure to use them again later.

I rubbed my face on his neck, knowing that stroking his tummy with my hands right now was off limits. Viktor was ticklish.

"After the season ends, why don't we look into getting a lawyer and doing what we can anyways? Or at least start to look into it?" I suggested.

Viktor leaned back so he could see my face. I blinked to get his blurry expression into focus. He held a small smile. "Let's do that, Yuuri. I would really like that."

I smiled too. "Okay. It's a promise."

End Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I was in Iceland, and then I had a couple of manuscript deadlines, so I'm sorry for the anticipated break ending up being longer! That being said, I've got all the way through Chapter 29 edited, so I will be posting that soon. Thanks for sticking with this story and I hope you've liked it. Comments much appreciated.  
> Have you guys enjoyed this story? Would you like it if I wrote more fanfiction? This was just a quick experiment for me, since I love YOI and I could so easily imagine how things might progress after the end of the show. Anyways thanks again for your comments.


	20. Chapter 20

_Viktor_

Skating for a week with Yuuri also here at the training camp was incredible. We'd been skating for a while in our last weeks together at Hasetsu as independent skaters and not skater and coach. Now with Yakov to watch Yuuri skate (and critique everything) I was able to completely focus on myself and know that Yuuri was still in good hands. Though Coach Kanako was delivering well, if Japanese Nationals were any indication, I knew Yakov, so.

That being said, it was funny to hear Yakov try to yell at Yuuri but lose his steam because he couldn't find the right words in English. Mila and I had a running gag of the funny quasi-English that Yakov would spit out, anger slowing his mental translations.

Yuuri was a hell of a sport about it. Yakov would get angry, but every time Yuuri would shout "Hai!" and do exactly as directed. Yuuri just completely owned it. After three solid days of Yakov shouting at Yuuri and Yuuri's "Hai!" echoing throughout the rink, the rest of us felt guilty for taking advantage of our coach and not treating our time with him as something as precious as Yuuri was. To think a year ago, having choked at the Grand Prix Finals, Yuuri wasn't even on Yakov's radar. It was amazing. Mila uploaded a video of all the shouting. I watched it because she got a great view of Yuuri's caboose in those new black pants.

We kept things pretty tame in the evenings. Yurio stayed clear of the apartment, except for mid-week, when we got a half day off so Yakov could work with the youth camp. Yurio and I showed Yuuri the canals, and the beach that reminded us of Hasetsu. Otherwise, it was just the two of us in the evenings, either out to dinner at a local café or cooking something simple at home. It was our first time living alone like this. I had to admit, it was a bit colder compared to the warmth of Yuuri's family at the onsen, but for now, Yuuri was with me in Saint Petersburg, and Yuuri was enough.

Yuuri's last day at the rink, Yakov pulled him aside and had a private talk with him that lasted a good twenty minutes. I hung back with Mila and Yurio to see what the deal was. I was worried Yakov was just chewing him out some more.

Right when we thought they were going to take all day, Yuuri came back to the locker room and jumped in surprise to see us there.

"What did Yakov tell you?" Yurio asked.

Mila surreptitiously pulled out her phone and started video.

Yuuri shrugged and winked Yurio.

"Ew," Yurio said with mock bravado.

I chuckled and shook my head. It was so easy for Yuuri to raz him.

Yuuri turned to me, a question in his eyes.

"I'm actually curious what he told you," I admitted.

That got to him.

Yuuri popped a hip out and locked eyes with each of us in turn, including the stupid phone. "He told me my choreography was a piece of crap."

We all gasped. Mila was right in my face to get my reaction and by then I was so, so done with Youtube, even though I laughed until Yuuri and I got out of there alone.

"No but really," I said, slipping my hand into his.

Yuuri's smile was genuine, his eyes thoughtful as we walked in the brisk afternoon. "He said he thought I benefitted from unlimited rink time back at home, and the kind of heavy coaching that I got full-time with you, and pretty much full-time with Kanako."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Had Yakov really hated this week that much? "He doesn't think you'd benefit from his coaching?"

Yuuri squeezed my hand. "He also said I should do a week with him whenever there's enough time between competitions, and he wants me to skate for him during the break when I'm going around skating for the judges to get input on my routines for next season."

I couldn't help but be a little disappointed. I had thought surely after Yakov devoted such time to Yuuri this week, surprising everyone, not the least of which Yuuri, that it was pretty much a slam dunk that Yuuri would be moving to Saint Petersburg. I hadn't factored in that Yuuri might really just be here for the week and go back to Japan, and that would be it.

That crushing loneliness was a frigid cold, even with Yuuri's hand in mine. I would be dealing with this as early as tomorrow.

Once, at the onsen on our own for the night, Yuuri had grabbed a bottle of rose wine that he'd received at one of his competitions and brought it back to my room. We'd proceeded to crush the thing after dinner, sipping one glass after the other and getting pretty drunk, especially since Yuuri's tolerance did not compare to mine. At that level of tipsy, mutually, we'd talked for hours and gotten into some pretty deep shit. When I awoke the next morning, I remembered Yuuri talking to me about all of the mental struggles he'd had in skating, about how he couldn't afford to have a sports psychologist with him at competitions, and his parents were a little traditional and behind the curve on the benefits of counseling. It had been a really enlightening evening.

I had hoped to do the same for Yuuri's last night of camp (now his last night in Saint Petersburg), but it looked like Mila had other ideas.

"Is everything all right?" Yuuri asked, for the third time.

"It's fine yeah!" I responded, whipping my phone away, only to have it buzz again in my pocket.

Yuuri chuckled. "What's going on?"

I sighed and showed him my phone, where there was a group chat absolutely blowing up at me.

Yuuri squinted at it. "Viktor, it's in Cyrillic."

"This is the chat wherein Mila is corralling other skaters to converge on this place just to see in-person how you dance when you get drunk," I explained.

Yuuri's eyes bugged out and my beloved read my mind.

"Let's get out of here," Yuuri said.

#

 We had already eaten the dinner we cooked together at home, and we'd already had a good amount of wine, so as we walked the streets of Saint Petersburg hand in hand, I struggled for a good place to go. We watched the city lights glitter off the water at the coast for a little bit until the wind got too cold, then ventured back into the city streets.

Yuuri followed along, quietly but with that soft smile on his face, so I knew our wandering was okay. It warmed me through, but I knew Yuuri must still be cold.

"Want some coffee?" Yuuri suggested.

I turned to him, a little confused. It was late and we'd already had wine.

Yuuri laughed at seeing my face, his breath puffing out in the cold. "I'm sure Mila has someone planted at your building to get the party going once we head back. Let's stay out a little longer, and I want to be awake to spend more time with you."

I squeezed my lover's hand. "I know just the place."

We walked a few blocks to a newer building and took the elevator up to the top. We stepped out to a penthouse restaurant that was glass on all sides. Yuuri noticed almost immediately and checked the floor to confirm.

"It's rotating," Yuuri said in awe.

"Yeah."

A waitress took us to a tiny table on the edge right by the glass. I told her we just wanted coffees, so we didn't get a full dinner table. I hoped it still meant they wouldn't kick us out later. I'd drink really slowly just in case.

Yuuri sipped his coffee like a true Japanese, able to consume caffeine in the middle of the night and still sleep later. I watched the lights from the candles on the tables reflect off his glasses.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

Yuuri smiled. "I keep having this dream."

"Go on."

"I'm on the podium at worlds, and you're beside me."

I grinned. "Beside you meaning I'm in the center and you're on the side?"

Yuuri laughed. "Whenever I try to analyze it too closely I wake up, but I've had it almost every night now for weeks."

How sweet. "Maybe we're both on the top podium."

Yuuri looked confused.

I shrugged. "I guess that could only ever be at the Gay Games, but when I look at pairs figure skating or even ice dancing, it's not at all impossible for us. We both have the strength to lift each other, and god, things don't have to be so hetero, you know? Half the men in pairs skating are gay anyways."

Yuuri grinned. "Probably, yeah." It wasn't something skaters really talked about unless it just happened to come up.

"So you're thinking you won't return to coaching immediately upon retirement?" Yuuri asked. "Though of course neither of us is ever going to retire."

I nodded with mock severity. My heart couldn't bear retiring with Yuuri still on the ice, but eventually my knees and hips were going to start begging for it. I'd had enough injuries over the years, but Yuuri was uninjured and still going strong, and I wanted to push men's figure skating as far as I could before ducking out. If Yurio overtook my records the instant I retired, I would be so fucking mad.

"I don't think I'm naturally a coach, not the way some are," I said. "The only reason things worked so well this last year was because it was you."

Yuuri scanned my expression, but he seemed to know what I mean.

"I've always looked up to you," Yuuri said by way of explanation. "You showing up in my po-dunk hometown when I was ready to give up, it was like a message from the gods. I was willing to give it everything I had just to make you stay."

That last part broke my heart. I'd left anyways.

I reached my hand out across the table and Yuuri took it. Our rings twinkled in the candlelight.

"I'll miss you when you leave tomorrow," I said.

Yuuri had grown so much since I'd first flown to Japan. His smile was older, wiser, but also so much stronger. "I know."

End Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to Moscow and St. Petersburg this year, but since that trip hasn't happened yet, there is a little bit of fiction happening in here! I looked up streets on google maps and searched for some favorite places among the young people. If I continue writing YOI fic I'll have some details in the future once I visit. <3  
> As always, thank you for reading and I look forward to any comments you might have.


	21. Chapter 21

_Yuri Plisetsky—Yurio_

I was pissed Yakov made me attend the stupid Olympic rally in Moscow. It took a whole day out of my training, and everyone just wanted to see Viktor anyways. Viktor was the crowd pleaser, and I hated humans, but I was the up and coming rising star (or whatever the fuck) so I flew to Moscow with Viktor, Mila and Yakov at the ass-crack of dawn in one hell of a mood.

We didn't have any kind of rehearsal, since it was just a press conference. We all had to wear our Russia jackets (though I'd gotten mine as part of the national team, not a former Olympian) and look really sharp (how was I supposed to look awake right now?) and answer questions from the television broadcaster and the audience. That was it. Fly back to Saint Petersburg, write off the training day to fuck-all, and go to bed. That was it.

Still, I was pissed because Yakov wouldn't let me wear my cheetah-print shoes.

The morning was pretty chilly, enough to get my nose running and Viktor's ears to turn pink. We rolled up to the stage and got seated in the front row, Mila, Viktor and me, with Yakov standing off to the side scowling at us. A crowd was already gathering, and clapped as we ceremoniously sat in our seats (why did we need to practice that?) and then left so that we could be offstage when the broadcast started. The broadcaster was covered in so much man-makeup for the camera he looked like a clown.

We were motioned to quiet down, and one pretty newscaster standing in front of the audience waited. The camera lights were on, and the cameraman motioned the countdown. The female broadcaster greeted the television audience, and on cue the audience waved and cheered. Then the female newscaster handed it off to the broadcaster on the stage.

The male broadcaster introduced himself and then beckoned the crowd for applause as he welcomed the Russian Olympic team. The crowd roared as we all waved, then ascended to the stage and sat in our assigned seats. I prayed harder than I ever have that one of us biffed it on the steps leading to the stage. God that would be so funny.

We all sat down, the Russian national anthem playing over the loud speakers. Finally the crowd quieted down and the broadcaster began asking questions of the different team captains for the ice-related sports: hockey, bobsledding, whatever.

Yakov stood in front of the stage with the female broadcaster. He was watching the interviews, his face its normal grumpy, arms crossed, stance wide. I had no idea why we all had to be here. What a fucking waste of time.

I looked over and saw Mila squinting at me. I could tell that was her way of telling me to smile for the camera. No thanks. Anytime I smiled when I didn't want to, I ended up looking like I was about to barf. No one was looking at me anyways, with Viktor in full-charm mode right next to me.

Then it came time for Mila to be interviewed, then Viktor. Viktor was answering all the broadcaster's questions with ease, but when he hesitated I followed his gaze to something in the crowd.

I hadn't noticed the rising voices of the crowd before, but when I looked to where Viktor was staring, Yakov was engaged with someone in the crowd, a middle-aged man, screaming at him. The crowd around was both trying to get away from them and yet trying to stop the man who was fighting with Yakov. What on Earth?

"He's got a gun!" someone shouted.

"Holy shit," I blurted and stood up with the rest of the athletes as people began to scream.

Then a shot went off, and everyone stampeded.

"Yuri!" Mila shouted and reached for me. I grabbed her as she was about to fall over, but the crowd was scrambling up onto the stage and knocking the chairs everywhere. I felt like a reed standing in a typhoon. Mila and I were about to get pushed over.

"This way!" Viktor grabbed us and hauled us backwards against the speaker tower. The crowd parted around the tower, so it gave us a tiny bit of space. Viktor felt like a giant compared to Mila and me in that moment.

"What the fuck is going on?" I shouted.

Viktor stood in front of us protectively, trying to see over the heads of the people streaming by us.

"Was Yakov shot?" Milia asked.

"I don't think so," Viktor said. "I can hear him shouting. He wouldn't be if he'd been shot."

Indeed, over the roar of the crowd I could hear Yakov's voice.

Mila screamed and jumped out of the way.

I was too busy watching Mila get pulled away by the crowd to realize what was happening.

"Yuri!"

I crashed to the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of me. I couldn't process why I couldn't move and was so smothered.

Then I felt cloth around my head and all over me. Viktor had his arm wrapped around my head and was lying on top of me.

I pushed against him, then realized the speaker tower was on top of us, crushing us.

"Viktor," I cried. "I can't breathe. Oh my god."

I felt wetness on my face and wiped it off—blood.

I couldn't see Viktor's face, his head ducked down by me, but I was curled into his chest and couldn't move. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. There was screaming all around us.

"Viktor!" I cried. "Please wake up!"

#

_Yuuri_

Minami-kun was skating around me as I showed him how to do a reverse camel spin into a high kick, ankle up over my head and arced back, holding the blade of my skate. The only man who'd been able to do this before I started skating was Hanyu Yuzuru, but that had been a call to action for the Japanese male skaters to carry on his legacy. It was a level of flexibility that was still in the realm of feeling natural to me: I was no Yulia Lipnitskaya. And because I could do it, Minami-kun was determined to learn. He could do the stretch on the floor, but was having trouble maintaining his balance while getting into it on the ice, plus the starting rotation had to be so fast to keep from slowing to a full stop once you got your foot up there.

Minami-kun tried it again, but once his foot was up to his shoulder blades he slowed to a stop and wobbled out of it, huffing.

"Let me show you again," I said. Hayakawa was loving this footage anyways, and it was good practice.

I skated around a bit to shake out my legs and pick up some rotational speed, then whipped into a tight upright spin, arms pulling into to accelerate me even faster (I was exaggerating for Minami-kun to see), then leg kicked up, heel to butt, then up further to grab it at mid-back, then the final push with the thighs to get it totally over my head, my shoulders rotating in their sockets, and the slowest speed yet, but the position was there.

"Wow, that's so graceful," Minami said.

There was some commotion at the side of the rink. Hayakawa was still filming us.

"Yuuri!" Yuko rushed to the barrier, her voice full of tears. "I just got a text from Yurio! There's been a riot at the Olympic press conference in Moscow! The crowd stampeded and Viktor was trampled. He's in critical condition in the hospital."

Minami-kun looked at me in shock, but it was like I'd heard some fantasy story relayed to me. I played Yuko's words again my head. Viktor in critical condition in the hospital.

Critical condition.

Critical.

I wobbled on my feet. Minami-kun screamed my name as the world went black and I felt as light as air.

End Chapter Twenty-One

 


	22. Chapter 22

_Yuuri_

I opened my eyes to find Minami-kun nestled beside me on the bed. My foggy mind registered that something was wrong about him, but it took me a minute to figure it out. One, he was further away, almost at arm's length from me. When Minami snuck into my room, he usually wound up using my chest for a pillow. That was the first thing wrong.

The second thing wrong I noticed was he was clutching a tissue in his hands (Minami was not normally a snotty person), and his eyes were so red and puffy he looked like he'd caught a cold or had an allergic reaction to something. Minami-kun had been crying, really hard, and I didn't know why.

My eyes burnt—my contacts had been in too long—but I was at least able to see as I looked around. There was a metal stand by the bed with my contact solution on it. Indeed this was not my bed at home, and from the sterile smell and fluorescent lights, only half of which were turned on, this was a hospital.

Why was I in the hospital?

I started breathing heavily, as if in a panic, but I didn't know why I should be panicking. I tried to move my right arm, but saw that it was strapped to the bars on the side of the bed to keep it from moving, and there was an IV in at my elbow. I was taking a clear solution of some kind.

There must be a nurse button, but one arm was strapped to the bars, and the other was held captive by Minami, and no one had thought it wise to put the nurse button in my hand before I went to sleep in case I needed it when I woke. What on earth, guys.

I was heaving these heavy breaths, again for no reason and it was so uncomfortable I wondered if this must be what death feels like. What the hell were these drugs doing to me? They were going to induce a heart attack.

It was then that I realized my head was strapped down, not so tight that I would have noticed when I moved it side to side, but I was not allowed to sit up.

Okay, fuck this.

"Minami-kun! Wake up!"

"Aaah!" Minami jolted awake and sat up in a flurry. He looked down at me in surprise. "…Yuuri?"

"Duh," I said. "Care to fill me in?"

Minami reached off the bed and grabbed the nurse button and jammed it hard. Tears were pouring out of his eyes again. "I'm so glad you're awake."

_And I'm pissed._ "Why are we in the hospital?"

"You fell on the ice and hit your head," Minami said.

"The fuck?" I said. "I’m not that stupid." I would never biff it that hard on the ice.

"I wish I was wrong," Minami said, wiping his eyes. "They said I can't hug you for now."

I blinked. "Why not?" I liked our hugs.

Minami looked at me, trying to read me but I could tell he wasn't getting the answers he wanted. "Because you have some kind of severe concussion, that they couldn't fully test until you woke up. They put you in a medically-induced coma to monitor you while they determined whether or not you had a brain bleed. You've been in ICU until about an hour ago."

Oh my god.

Brain bleed? Did someone drop me on my head?

"You fainted," Minami said. "Hayakawa and I weren't close enough to catch you. You just fainted, and fell all the way down. I'm so sorry I didn't catch you, Yuuri."

"Hayakawa…" There was something prodding at my memory but I couldn't grasp it. The reason I had hyperventilated earlier, and something with Hayakawa, he was videotaping me when—

"Oohh," I groaned as my head hurt. "Oh fuck." The pain increased until I couldn't think about anything else.

Finally a nurse came in and brushed Minami off the bed. My IV bag was changed, and thank god it included some pain management something in it. My mother and father and sister came in with the same red puffy eyes. The nurse controlled the bed to get me sitting up, but she put a neck brace on to further stabilize me. I was still strapped down and I hated it. The nurse left and my father had to help me pee in a cup while my mother and sister waited outside.

Then a doctor came in who introduced herself as a neurologist and explained that she was happy to report that although I'd had some swelling I did not in fact have a brain bleed. She would thus conduct an in-depth test to assess the state of my concussion, possible brain damage and get me in an MRI to confirm the swelling had gone down.

Brain damage…

I looked at my parents for some kind of explanation. My mother wiped her eyes and my dad made a motion to indicate that I shouldn't worry about it now and they would explain later. From the smell of it, my sister had been smoking like a chimney.

What the fuck, guys…

My family and Minami stayed back while the neurologist conducted her test, which felt like it took forever. She'd ask me questions, have me do mental math and look in different directions and shine a light in my eyes, but she would give no indication as to whether my responses meant I was fine or not.

I held my mom's hand while they wheeled me down the hall and into the MRI room, where they made my mother stay behind. The MRI was the most painful thing I'd ever done. The pain meds wore off and the MRI machine made this excruciatingly loud clanking noise which rapidly developed into by far the worst migraine of my life. Tears were leaking out of my eyes but I couldn't wipe them—I wasn't allowed to move, and if I wiggled it would ruin the image and I would have to do all of this again—but once when I passed out from the pain I woke to the technicians calling to me through the speakers that I was not allowed to sleep. _I wasn't asleep, you blithering idiots!_

Even after I admitted to myself that there was no way out of this and I just had to bear with it, even then the torture seemed to go on forever, the pain so intense I was out of my mind. After an eternity, I finally felt myself being wheeled out. By then I was in so much agony I was babbling, apologizing for whatever I did, begging anyone to help me, anything to make it stop.

They got me hooked up to an IV again, the room pitch dark and almost immediately I felt it begin to work. Thank all the gods, the pain was going to go away…

I woke sometime later, bleary. My sister was sitting next to the bed and playing on her phone. Her visage was so surreal I couldn't tell if it was a dream.

She smirked when she saw me, then cocked her head at something behind me.

"That boy is so in love with you," she said.

What?

I turned the other way, and Minami was glued to my side, head tucked into my shoulder. I couldn't tell whether his red swollen eyes had gotten any better, and realized I had my contacts out.

I kissed the top of Minami's head and smiled, then fell asleep again.

I woke up later, and it must have been night because my family was gone and the room was dark except for the light of some machine nearby. The light of which shone off Minami's eyes when I looked over.

"Why are you awake?" I asked.

He smiled. "Just watching you sleep. I kinda slept all afternoon with you and now I'm wide awake." He had scooted further up on the bed so that I was kind of nestled into his chest.

I wanted to laugh but I didn't have the energy to.

Then Minami kissed the top of my head.

"Hey!" I protested.

"What?" Minami whined. "You did that to me!"

"Only when I thought you were asleep!"

"As if I could sleep through something like that!"

I huffed and Minami let out an exasperated sigh.

"Thank you, Yuuri," Minami said.

"For what?" I asked.

Minami's facial expression was so soft that I thought he was going to say something cheesy like "For everything" and I just wasn't having it.

"For making me stronger," he said.

I didn't reply to that, because I didn't do that. You can only do that for yourself.

"With Viktor gone," Minami continued, "I've had to step up to the plate and be there for you. Showing up, again and again, has made me so much stronger. I feel like I've become the man I'm meant to be in the process."

That was pretty adorable.

"You'll make a good man someday, Minami," I said. "There's no need to grow up so fast." No truer words could be said by a late-bloomer like me.

Minami clenched his jaw, and I saw that searching look again. It was almost like he was looking at me like he thought I was crazy. What was going on?

"What?" I asked.

Minami deflated. "Can you really not remember?"

Did I really have brain damage? "Remember what?"

"R-remember falling," Minami said, "or what led you to fall."

"I don't remember falling," I confirmed, but that was common with moderate to severe concussions, which I assumed I had, despite the doctors and my family not telling me anything.

Minami heaved a sigh, his expression worried. He smoothed my hair out of my face, an absent-minded gesture as he clearly contemplated something.

"I love you," Minami said so softly I almost didn't hear it. "I'd kiss you right now if I thought you would ever welcome it."

I was surprised in the moment, but in reality, I had seen that coming from day one. You are _so sweet_.

"Thank you," I said, but at the look of hope in his eyes, I shook my head no. Don't kiss me.

Minami understood, but he still gathered his resolve and gripped me by the shoulders.

"If anything ever happens, Yuuri," Minami said, "I'll be there for you. You'll never be alone."

The sentiment warmed me, but that niggling in the back of my mind only increased. "When is Viktor going to get here, by the way?" Shouldn't he be flying out here if I've had such a terrible fall as to be hospitalized? Though even if he got on the plane immediately, it would take the better part of a day to get from Saint Petersburg to Fukuoka.

Minami looked at me, completely heartbroken, and something else.

I finally placed the emotion on Minami's face: pity.

He was pitying me.

The total silence from my family, Minami's confession, Hayakawa filming, then I heard Yuko's voice surface in my mind:

_"I just got a text from Yurio! There's been a riot at the Olympic press conference! The crowd stampeded and Viktor was trampled. He's in critical condition in the hospital."_

Viktor.

"He's in critical condition," I said, my eyes so wide I couldn't see anything. "How long ago was this?"

"Stay calm, Yuuri," Minami's voice was forcefully soothing, his repeated invocation of my name calling me back to the present. "That was yesterday."

My eyes finally came back to focus, but now I was trembling. "And now? Is he still alive?"

Minami looked older than his years. "He's still alive, Yuuri. The last I heard he was in surgery."

"When will he get out of surgery?"

"They don't know."

A cold sweat broke out over my skin and ran down my spine. "What's wrong with him?"

Minami deliberately waited for me to slow my breathing down before he answered. "Yurio says Viktor protected him from a falling speaker tower, and then people were running on top of it trying to get away. Yurio was trapped underneath him, and Viktor was unconscious."

"Oh my god."

They don't know when he'll get out of surgery. _If_ he'll make it out of surgery. That was why I fell. Yuko told me the news, and I'd fainted right there in the rink.

I cried, sobbing into Minami's chest. He held me as I wept and trembled and wept some more.

It was a long night.

End Chapter Twenty-Two


	23. Chapter 23

_Yuri Plisetsky—Yurio_

I'd ditched training for three days to sit with Viktor.

Part of it was that I was having trouble sleeping. Whenever I got tired enough to close my eyes, I was back under the speaker tower, Viktor's body shielding me even as he was unconscious, me screaming and pounding against his chest as the people rushing to flee jostled and even climbed over the tower, crushing us. The only person who had seen me through that, who could sympathize because he had been there too, was the man lying prone in the hospital bed in front of me.

I listened to the heart monitor beep. An old woman had shown up on his behalf yesterday, but when I'd asked if she was Viktor's grandma, she'd answered that she was something of a foster mother for Viktor, since his parents were always struggling when he was a baby and now they were somewhat estranged. Sounded like an unwanted pregnancy. I hadn’t known any of that.

I got up and walked to the bed, just to take another look at him and stretch my legs. It became my pastime the last three days, especially when I started seeing results from my game, the game of "Viktor's coloring looks dead/alive." For a good two days, and after his surgery, my game hadn't been very uplifting, that pale skin now ghostly, with purple mottled bruises that turned black after they'd reset his nose and cheekbones. But on Day Three, that morning after I'd managed to sleep a little on the cot they brought in and put beside his bed, his color had started improving, and dare I say now, he looked almost like a living person who'd just had the shit beat out of him.

The nurses said I could touch him after the first day, and though that wasn't normally something we did, after he hugged me at the Grand Prix Finals, I felt some kind of obligation to let him know someone was here with him, in case he couldn't hear us. I put my hand on his shoulder (the nurses said I could do this) and then ran it down his arm, before returning to my seat.

Yakov stormed in.

I just about jumped out of my skin. I let out an unseemly squawk.

Yakov stared me down. "Time to go. You've neglected your training for three days."

Yakov had been at the center of the riot and apparently socked the guy so hard it knocked him out. Terrifying. A doctor had examined his hand and simply told him to ice it if it hurt. My coach had punched a fully-grown man so hard that it had knocked the man out, and yet it had not even hurt his hand. Damn.

"But—"

"Enough," Yakov grabbed me and literally dragged me out of the hospital room and down the hall. I had never experienced how thoroughly he outweighed me before. "You're returning to the rink."

"Coach!" I was more than angry, but at the same time a little afraid of that punch. I'd had a dream that Yakov had socked me so hard I'd lost teeth.

"Enough!" Yakov stopped and glared me down into the floor, jabbing a finger back in the direction of Viktor's room.

"That man in there," Yakov said, "is done. He will never skate again. He'll be lucky to put words together into sentences when they let him come out of the coma. If you care about him, you will become his legacy, not his housemaid."

When Yakov began walking again, I followed behind, but Yakov kept hold of my arm and led me along like a child.

I scrubbed at my face with my free arm.

"Stop crying," Yakov said. "You have a lot of work to do."

#

_Katsuki Yuuri_

Sometime in the early morning, I had drifted off, so exhausted from worrying and crying that I simply couldn't hold on to consciousness any longer. Minami must have brought a bag with him to the hospital, because when I woke, he had new clothes on that weren't soaked in my snot.

"Hey," Minami said, carding his fingers gently through my hair.

I really needed to brush my teeth. "Did you sleep?" I asked.

Minami's eyes had dark circles under them. "A bit, yeah, when you slept."

I closed my eyes again, so sick and tired of the fake hospital lights. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Yuuri."

I shook my head. Bubbling up to the surface were words that thanked Minami for his feelings. My heart was too distressed over Viktor to think about much of anything else, but somewhere in my heart there was a place that would always hold the ice Minami-kun and I had skated on together.

"Hayakawa-san's been in to take footage of you, but he promised he wouldn't release it until he had your permission," Minami said. "You've been all over the news, and people are clambering for something to be released on the youtube channel for the documentary."

"That's fine," I said, not caring about stuff like that right now. I'd sign whatever he needed me to. I felt pretty stupid for fainting on the ice like that. Now I had a serious injury that was totally uncalled for. That, and if I had simply taken Viktor's news like the man I was, I would be healthy enough to be at his side right now.

"Minami-kun."

"Yeah?"

"Will you get Yuko-san for me? I've got to talk to her."

Sure enough, Yuko had been avoiding me out of guilt, thinking she had been the one to make me faint by telling me the news while I was still on the ice, and therefore indirectly causing all of this. It was such a Yuko way to think, and as her best friend, I'd read her perfectly.

She finally came to visit me, full of tearful apologies which I brushed aside. I was almost a little mad that her guilt had kept her from visiting me in the goddamn hospital, but it was water under the bridge now.

"Here's what Yurio has been sending me," Yuko said, easing onto the bed so she could show me her phone. Since Yurio knew (basic, garbled) Japanese, they'd been talking nonstop, and Yurio had sent pictures. I saw more than one rant from Yurio cursing me that I was dumb enough to faint on the ice. I had to agree with him there.

I finally got to see Viktor.

He was still unconscious, and Yuko said she wouldn't show me the pictures before his surgery. She showed me the ones from when he got taken off of breathing support and they fixed his cheeks and nose. It felt so good to see him.

Yuko left to go to work, and apparently Coach Kanako had dragged Minami away, so I was left with my phone messaging my family and demanding they get me released from the hospital so I could get back to training.

A doctor came to visit me, Irina. She was Russian, but apparently she had been living in Japan for many years. She was a sports neurologist who focused on extreme concussions, usually with rugby and American football players, often hockey, but sometimes also figure skaters. Once I got cleared by my lead physician, we could return to the ice and she would monitor my spins and then test my concussion. Apparently skaters' spins were so tight they could even induce concussions, not to mention make a situation worse if the skater already had one. I obviously wouldn't be jumping for a while, simply because they couldn't risk me falling and hitting my head again (falling that hard was extremely rare!), but also the shock of the landing, even if done completely correctly, was not good for severe concussions.

The good side of things, though, was that I did not have any permanent brain damage, despite how foggy and disjointed everything was right now. Thank god.

The bad side? I wasn't allowed to fly for at least another couple of weeks. So not only could I not fully train, but I also could not go see Viktor.

Hayakawa came to visit me and did an extensive interview. He said I was gaining so much popularity from my skating success this season, to my increased publicity and my coming out with Viktor, that he had taken the liberty of contacting a publicist he knew for me. Hayakawa himself had been instrumental in getting my face out there, and brought in a significant revenue stream both for my family's onsen and for my hometown, but things had gotten so out of hand that I needed someone else to step in and help.

The news coming out of Russia was that the man Yakov tackled had indeed been armed, but the shot that had gone off had not hit anyone. The man was (knocked unconscious by Yakov and) taken into custody, where it was to be determined whether he had intended to commit an act of treason by attacking the Russian Olympic team, or whether he had other motives. A day later, it was revealed that the man had submitted a statement that his target had been the only openly LGBT member of the Olympic team, Viktor. I wondered if that had been the actual truth, or if that man's attorney had advised it as having the fewest legal repercussions. An act of treason would put him away forever, but an act against an LGBT person had barely any legal recourse to it. The man would be released sometime soon, probably. Groups were protesting the hate crime, even the president of Russia had made a statement condemning any violence against his Olympic team and especially Russia's most prized male figure skater since Evgeni Plushenko. He'd said nothing about the LGBT side of things, but I figured it was a good thing to condemn the violence all the same.

Hayakawa got me on the cover of Athletics Japan magazine, talking about my journey with Viktor, the most recent attack, gay rights in Japan, and my determination to bring the World Championship gold medal to Japan this year, and an Olympic gold next year.

I was released from the hospital under the strictest orders and was allowed back on the ice. No jumping. Coach Kanako was insistent I work on choreography, and both she and Minami watched me closely as if expecting me to mess up. The next day, Irina, the sports neurologist visited the rink and had me do some light spins with a wireless cap on my head that recorded the force sustained. I was still on heavy pain meds, but it felt good to spin, to stretch out wide and free. I'd been feeling trapped in my own body lately, like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

Irina left and despite protests for me to rest, I continued working on my choreography and step sequence. I wasn't leaving this ice!

"Yuuri!"

I whipped around to see Yuko rushing to the barricade. "Yurio-kun is video calling me."

She picked up the call and Yurio's voice rang out into the silence of the rink.

"He's awake."

End Chapter Twenty-Three

 


	24. Chapter 24

_Yuuri_

"He's awake," Yurio said through Yuko's phone.

I sprinted to the barricade, skating harder than I ever have. Minami and I skid to the barricade at the same time, sending ice crystals into the air.

I leaned over the barricade as Yuko nestled in between us and held her phone out for me.

Yurio's neutral face turned into his signature scowl when he saw me. "Hey Pig."

"Hey."

I heard something in the background. It was spoken Russian, and with a gasp I realized it was Viktor talking to Yurio. A very, very groggy Viktor, but that was him.

The image on the phone jostled as Yurio crawled up on the bed and slid down beside the person wrapped in blankets.

Viktor's face came into view, though it looked like Yurio was holding it out for me. Viktor's smile was soft.

"Yuuri?"

Tears sprung to my eyes and I took Yuko's phone in my gloved hands. Yuko and Minami left to give me some space.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound normal even as tears fell down my cheeks.

"I heard you fainted and got a concussion," he said.

I covered my mouth, mortified. I nodded.

Viktor's smile was sleepy but happy. "Look at the two of us. We're a mess."

"Yurio seems to be okay though," I said.

"I'm fine," Yurio said, leaning into Viktor to get onto the screen, then away again.

"I can't fly for a couple of weeks," I said. "As soon as I get permission, I'll come visit you."

Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, as if forcing his foggy brain to calculate something. "I don't know when I'll be skating again, but you should come and train with us."

Yurio was already talking over him in Russian.

The words took a delayed second to register, but when they did Viktor looked righteously offended. The two started arguing. No doubt it was about Viktor's return to skating.

I smiled and watched, a warmth filling my chest. If those two were back to bickering, surely everything would be alright.

"Yuuri," Viktor said, turning to me and ignoring Yurio, who continued to argue, "Are you competing in Four Continents?"

I clicked on Yuko's calendar on her phone; I didn't even know what day it was. In just over two weeks.

My heart sank. "I don't know if I'll be allowed to. I'm banned from jumping right now, and the doctors won't even let me spin unless I have this sports neurologist with me."

Viktor's mouth made an "o". "Wow."

A silence fell on the line, I think when we all came to the same realization at the same time: these injuries might keep us from competing, and if that happened, this could be the end of the season for us, the end of the program that Viktor and I built together.

I clenched my jaw. This wasn't over. I was going to skate this program at Worlds.

Yurio leaned into the screen. "You might be able to qualify for worlds based on your Grand Prix scores."

That lifted my spirits. I hadn't thought about that.

But then the question fell to what Viktor would do. "Could you qualify based on your score at Nationals?"

Viktor made a face. Yurio shrugged. "We'll have to see. Yakov may not let Viktor back on the ice."

I grinned at my lover. "Then it'll be time for you to return to Japan."

Viktor's smile practically sparkled. "Yeah."

#

I took advantage of the temporary ban on jumps to conduct every interview that Hayakawa's publicist could pull together at the last minute. I interviewed with magazines and newspapers, and even appeared on TV. Thank goodness Viktor had bought me that new suit and tie. People often compared me to Hanyu Yuzuru, which was really no comparison at all, as I could only claim that I skated in his legacy and got inspiration from him, just like Viktor, though Hanyu was more of a god who walked the face of the earth for a while.

It was often said to me how charming Hanyu was—everyone in Japan practically adored him—and that I was so awkward as to be endearing. Endearing, that was one way to put it.

In almost every interview, I answered the same questions: how I came to know Viktor, and how we had slowly discovered that what we held together was love, and what that meant for me as a Japanese person.

It was really hard for me to comment on things like that. I loved Viktor, with everything I had, but I had always loved him privately. I had been strong and defiant before, emboldened by my new gains in skating and my new love, but then Viktor had literally faced an assassination attempt just for openly being with me. I was shaken, to say the least. It would take some time for me to recover.

The most memorable interview was for Pride magazine, on the day of a youth rally for LGBT kids and kids of LGBT parents in Shinjuku Nichome in Tokyo. I'd felt so awkward interviewing as an openly gay person, because I really didn't know what that even meant, but the interview had been so positive and calming. I'd finally just admitted that I spent all of my time on skating and trying to turn my career around that I didn't even know what it meant to be a part of this community. A smattering of applause had started up then, as if one person in the back was making it clear that they supported me.

Then a voice rang out over the crowd. "Yuuri-chan!!"

Chan?

I shielded my eyes and squinted to see who it was, though the area outside wasn't that big.

Someone was hefted up on someone else's shoulders in the back. I recognized Natsumi-san from the bookstore all those months ago.

"Natsumi-san?"

"Yuuri-chan!" Natsumi shouted and waved. "Thanks for coming to my bookstore! Please come again! I'll help you find everything you need! Your relationship will live on forever with all the books I can recommend! You're doing great Yuuri-chan! We in Shinjuku Nichome welcome our baby gays!!"

I blushed so hard I felt the fever on my cheeks. The crowd started laughing, and soon the whole event was in an uproar that lasted so long, the interviewer called it good.

#

Finally, Hayakawa's first installment of the documentary was ready to be released. He'd been updating with Youtube snippets all along, and garnered several thousand subscribers. I joked that if he could just get the Shibutani ice dance siblings to be filmed, then his audience would explode. I attended the watch party for the documentary and thanked everyone at the beginning. But in truth, when the film started with Viktor's and my story together, I started losing my composure and walked out.

"Yuuri."

I turned around to see Minami following me. He looked sharp in his suit, but already it was getting short at the cuffs. He was growing so fast he was almost as tall as me now. I was impressed Minami was handling his growth spurt without complaint, though that was just like him. Whenever I video chatted with Viktor, Viktor complained that all Yurio did when he visited him was bitch about his growing pains. We had two very different kouhai.

"Hey," I said, welcoming the distraction. "I just needed some air. I don't really want to watch Viktor on screen right now when he's so far away and still recovering."

Minami nodded. "That makes total sense. I'm glad to see you're otherwise okay though."

"Yeah." Indeed, I had been kind of a roller coaster of a mess lately, but thankfully now that Viktor did not seem on the verge of leaving the world or anything, I had calmed down quite a bit. Getting to see him for myself had finally confirmed it, even though it was just online. I dreamt every night of holding him in my arms.

The chilly night air was refreshing. Minami and I walked down the street that overlooked a canal of some sort. The canal was completely cemented in on the underside, but some water still flowed through it. In the distance I could hear the trains running and the traffic. Typical Tokyo.

Minami leaned against the guard rail with me. I checked my watch to see when we'd left. We had around forty-five minutes until the clip ended and we had to head back to help Hayakawa close the event.

"You recover so quickly," Minami said.

I looked over at him. "How do you mean?"

Minami smiled. "You've been through so much just in the last week and a half, but you're still sprinting forward. You might even compete in the world championships despite everything that's happened to you."

I nodded, clasping my hands together and leaning on my elbows on the railing. "I've got my priorities in line. So do you."

"Yeah." He fell silent.

I let the silence sit with us for moment, enjoying the night air, but I sensed Minami's discomfort and wanted to alleviate it if I could.

"Want to talk about what is bothering you?" I asked.

Minami let out a big whoosh of air. "Of course you would notice."

"Of course I would," I said. "I'm your senpai."

Minami chuckled, but it was forced. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"Can I get your answer?" he finally said.

I blinked at him.

Minami saw my face and looked crushed. "You don't even remember what I'm talking about."

"I'm sorry."

His expression changed from upset to sympathetic. "It's okay. You were on a lot of drugs at the time. I should have anticipated that. Back in the hospital, I told you I loved you."

Oh, that. I remembered that.

But I couldn't remember what I'd said in return, which was pretty inconsiderate.

"What kind of response do you want from me?" I asked, not sure what I'd given him before.

"I think if you could just... concretely turn me down, it could help me to move on and return to our prior friendship. I know I shouldn't hold any hope that you'll be with me, but I'm doing it anyways, I guess."

I nodded. I was a late bloomer, so even though I was five years older than Minami, I still knew what he meant.

"I can't return your feelings, Minami. As long as Viktor is alive, he will have my heart, until the day he no longer wants it, and maybe even after he doesn't want it. It looks like Viktor is going to live, so my heart is not mine to give away."

Minami nodded, but I could see the streetlights reflecting off the tears he refused to let fall. "Viktor is a lucky guy."

"I'm lucky to have him."

After a moment, Minami broke the silence. "I have one request. You can definitely refuse it."

"Go ahead," I said. "Anything."

Minami's voice shook. "Will you kiss me?"

That wasn't was I was expecting. "Pardon?"

"I—" he couldn't face me, so instead he stared out at the canal like it was his sole purpose in life. "I haven't had my first kiss yet, and you're my first love, and I know it won't lead to anything, but I would always remember it."

Wow. That was adorable. I reasoned that Viktor would be okay with it. It wasn't like I was cheating, at least not in my mind.

"Okay," I said.

Minami flailed. "Really?"

"Sure," I said. Viktor was asleep in Russia, so I couldn't exactly ask permission, but I still thought that in the end it would be alright.

Minami started to freak out. "Oh god, I didn't think you would actually say yes."

"Wait." I held my hands up to placate him. "Do you not think this will make it worse for you?"

"No!" Minami balked. "This will be amazing!"

That didn't answer my question.

"God, this is the best, oh jeez."

I was pretty sure Minami didn't even know he was speaking out loud right now.

"No buildup," I said. "It's not very spontaneous that way, right? Let's just smooch. It doesn't have to be perfect."

"But this is the only kiss I'll be getting from Katsuki Yuuri for my whole life!" Minami all but shouted.

This was rapidly escalating out of my control. Should I offer to give him more kisses later? Would _that_ not lead him on? Plus, although Viktor would be totally fine with the one kiss—this was Minami after all—I didn't think making it a habit would be a good idea.

"Just the one, Minami-kun," I said.

That snapped him out of his panic. He stood in front of me on the bridge, and I saw him as a man.

"Okay," he said. "Until the day I earn another."

"Until that day," I said. Then a thought occurred to me. "You'll get another when you medal at the Grand Prix."

Minami gasped and struck a pose. "Yes!"

I laughed, popping my hip out. Minami had an uncanny way of making me feel amused.

He looked around, as if assessing the bridge for the perfect spot. I rolled my eyes.

"Here." Minami jumped on the step that held the railing, and also served to lift him just a couple of centimeters above my height. Why did we have to kiss right at the railing? It seemed a bit dangerous.

I tried to get up on the step, but I really wasn't liking that we would be leaning against the railing for this.

"No." Minami motioned in front of him. "Right here, please."

"You want to kiss me like we're standing on the stairs?"

"I want to kiss you from this angle so that I will grow tall."

I looked up at him. "You've got quite a ways to go for that. You'll be as tall as a Evengi Plushenko. Why not just aspire to be as tall as me?"

He smiled. "That's better, yeah."

He stepped down, but now he didn't have a way to get to my height.

"Here." I stepped out of my shoes and stood behind them.

Minami looked at me in confusion.

I motioned to my shoes, and when Minami stepped on them with me in my socks, he was just my height.

I put my hands on his hips and heard Minami's breath catch. He was looking at me like Viktor often did, like I hung the Moon.

I touched my forehead to his and Minami didn't even flinch. I guessed with weeks of sleeping together in the same bed and him spending so much time with me in the hospital, he was used to being up in my space by now.

Minami wrapped his arms lightly around my shoulders. His smile was so mischievous, like we both shared in some incredible secret between just the two of us.

"Kiss me," I said with a smile.

He did.

He cupped a hand behind my neck and kissed me so softly, it was like a butterfly's wings flittering against my lips. He lingered there, breathing in what breath I gave, then kissed me again in just the same way.

"Minami," I whispered. "Is this really all you want? You can actually kiss me." _Make it count, just this once._

"I don't know what to do," Minami admitted. "You're letting me take the lead, but I don't know what I'm doing."

It occurred to me only then that somehow my taking action and kissing Minami, actively, myself the aggressor, did feel like I would rather be kissing Minami than Viktor, and that discord ran through me, because I didn't.

Somehow I had thought that letting Minami kiss me and just kissing him _back_ was like giving him a present, or a thank-you note, for everything he'd done for me these last months. I felt like Viktor had kind of pushed me into Minami's arms in a way, but me actively kissing Minami didn't feel like that. I couldn't do it.

"You're doing fine," I said. "Kiss me again."

"Okay."

I felt Minami's pulse at his waist, like a bird fluttering under my fingertips. He kissed me like I was something precious, and I kissed back, grateful for everything he was to me. I prayed someone came along who was worthy of Minami's love, and that Minami would have clear enough eyes at the time to see it.

"Just one more," Minami said.

I laughed against his mouth, my hands playing at his hips. "Okay."

By the tenth kiss or so, Minami had gotten the hang of it a little more. I wasn't sure how this all qualified as one kiss, more like a kissing session, but these gentle touches were so delicate, there was no way it could be considered a make-out session.

One last little kiss, then Minami pulled me into a hug, out bodies pressed together, knees knocking. It was such a genuine hug, it made me happy. Then Minami shifted his weight from foot to foot like we were dancing, making me laugh.

Thank you, Minami.

The End—Chapter Twenty-Four

 


	25. Chapter 25

_Viktor_

I was finally released from the hospital after two weeks. I never would have guessed I could ever be so happy to be in Yurio's cat-smelling apartment again. It was the privacy, my little world with Makkachin. Complete and utter paradise.

Two weeks, though, and I was only allowed to do rehabilitative exercises right now, not skate. The doctor had told me for certain that I could not skate at the European Championships, but Yuuri still had a chance to potentially compete, depending on whether his doctor cleared him for it today. I was waiting with baited breath to hear from him.

I spent the day completely cleaning the apartment, and even though I was restricted from physical activity (whoever listened to garbage like that?) I got down on the floor and stretched with Makkachin. I was a professional athlete—I could check in with my own body better than any doctor. I was beaten up, but not dead, dammit.

On Yurio's living room floor, I did a status check of everything, though of course I was still on somewhat heavy pain meds. I'd had internal organ damage, but surprisingly, miraculously, no broken ribs or fractured vertebra. My neck had one hell of a sprain. I was still in a soft brace. Yurio had taken so much of the impact of my head that I only had a moderate concussion. Yuuri's was more severe. The physicians had been very worried about my internal organs, hence all the time spent in the hospital on IV and told not to move (I definitely got up and walked around whenever they left me alone. I subsequently got yelled at on a daily basis).

I stretched around on the floor while Makkachin did the downward-dog pose and then proceeded to lick my face.

Russian Nationals had been such a thrill, returning to the ice. I wondered if the ISU would let me go to Worlds, or at least somehow skate after the European Championships to qualify. I'd be so sad if the doctors (and therefore the ISU) prevented me after I'd worked so hard to come back.

After stretching, I moved on to calisthenics, just what I could do in my apartment. I would stop if anything started to hurt, which was a queer thing because I was on medication for pain, but I took it easy.

I was three sets into my push ups when my phone rang with a video call from Yuuri.

I rolled over and clicked it. "Babe?"

Yuuri's face filled my screen. "Hey. I'm about to head into my appointment."

Then he blinked about six times and look at me strangely.

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked.

"Minami confessed to me," he said.

I laughed. "I've always known he was in love with you. I was your senpai, and you loved me." I winked at him.

Yuuri smiled. "The trend continues it seems."

"Yeah."

Yuuri hesitated.

"So did you explain to him that we're together?" I asked.

That jolted him out of it. "I mean yeah, Minami knows we're together, he just confessed to me anyways because he wanted me to know, and he wanted to get it off his chest."

"I see. Well then, good for him." Japanese confessions were in a league of their own. I didn't really know what to say there.

Yuuri nodded. "I turned him down, of course. He asked if he could kiss me just once, so I let him do that."

I smiled. "That was sweet of you."

"Yeah. We kissed for like ten minutes."

I laughed. "Wait a minute. I thought this was like one kiss, right? He asks for one kiss and you guys kiss for ten minutes?"

"Yeah."

But wait a second! I didn't know if I was supposed to be okay with that. "Did you kiss for so long because things got impassioned and you guys got swept up in it?"

Yuuri waved his hands so vigorously I thought they might twist right off. "No no. He had never kissed before, so he was just pecking me on the lips and I said he could try to you know, kiss me better, so he was trying it."

"So you didn't make out."

"Correct. I wouldn't feel right if we were making out."

"I see."

Yuuri looked at me, unsure if I was mad. "Is that okay?"

It really was. I knew Yuuri loved me. "It sounds like you're trying to let him down easy. As long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I'm fine with it." If Minami stole Yuuri from me, I'd throw him across the room.

Yuuri smiled. "That's a relief. Thanks, Viktor."

"You're welcome," I said. "When are you coming to see me? They still won't clear me to fly."

"After Four Continents," Yuuri said with confidence. "I'll let you know as soon as I'm out of my appointment."

"Good luck, babe."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Love you," I said, because I'd almost died two weeks ago.

Yuuri in that moment looked more vulnerable than I'd ever seen him. "I love you too, Viktor. It's weird saying it on video chat, huh? It's like it cheapens it."

"Then come say it to me in person."

Yuuri smiled. "Okay. I'll call you after my appointment."

We hung up and I curled around Makkachin on the carpet, desperately needing to hug something while Yuuri was so far away (and Yurio did not even begin to satisfy my cuddly urges).

I must've fallen asleep, because I heard Yuuri calling me in my dreams a couple of times before I realized it was real life.

I woke up in a rush and clicked on my phone. "Yuuri? Sorry, I fell asleep."

Yuuri appeared angrier than I'd ever seen him. "They said I couldn't compete at Four Continents."

That woke me up. "...what? Why?"

Yuuri clenched his jaw and I could see from the background that he was charging outside the hospital. I squinted my eyes so the blurring background didn't make me dizzy.

"It's still two weeks away," Yuuri said bitterly. "I could get my jumps back by then. It's not like I've really taken much of a break. Whenever people weren't looking at the hospital I was working out anyways."

Oh, my love.

"So you feel like you could get back to top shape in time for the 4CC," I supplied. Especially considering Yuuri was already back on the ice, that didn't seem too far off.

"Yeah."

I noticed that Yuuri had been brushing aside some furious tears while he blasted down the street, his phone down at his waist so I got the awkward view from there, of his chin and up his nose. But this wasn't the crying I had witnessed a year and a half ago at the Grand Prix Finals, the defeated Yuuri, nor was it the crying of my time with him as his coach, of fear of letting me down or of gratitude at his advancement. This crying Yuuri was a powerful storm, the determined fury of one of the top skaters in the world.

"I have skated at the Worlds before," Yuuri said, "but never have I been within a shot for a medal. I have a silver from the Grand Prix Finals. Now is my time to crush it at the Worlds."

I loved it when Yuuri spoke like this, and yet in the moment I wished we were back to talking about my boyfriend smooching his kouhai under the moonlight or whatever. "This decision is coming from your doctor?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to have an official ISU physician evaluate you?" I suggested. "It wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion."

Finally Yuuri looked down at his phone and met my eyes. "I hadn't known that was an option."

"It is," I said, hoping that those were dry eyes I'd seen. "Have your Coach get in contact with the ISU. Make sure that your physician's office has your medical records on hand to send them over." The truth was, if the ISU physician evaluated the medical charts and thought they were too severe from the outset, the physician could refuse to do an in-person evaluation. It was only if the ISU physician thought there was a chance Yuuri might actually be healthy enough to skate that there would be an in-person examination. With figure skating's popularity in Japan in the wake of Yuzuru Hanyu's career, there might even be a licensed ISU doctor in Tokyo, but on the flip side, the ISU might insist on flying a non-Japanese physician out to make sure it was unbiased.

I did not so much think that a Japanese ISU physician would be willing to let Yuuri risk his health to skate (for the glory of Japan or whatever), but what was more of a risk was that Yuuri might charm the socks off the physician. Yuuri's humility was completely mesmerizing to the Japanese people. The way my lover bowed at the kiss and cry, over and over and over, thanking me as his coach (bow), thanking the judges (bow), the audience in all directions (bow bow bow bow); it was completely endearing. A foreign culture that took bowing as an entertainer taking credit for their own talent was missing the point of bowing in Japan: Yuuri was acknowledging everyone else in the wake of his own accomplishments, thanking them dearly and graciously when in the end it was he that had put in all the work.

Yuuri sat down and the video background finally stopped moving. He was in a park somewhere, but at least he was done crying now.

Yuuri was thinking about something, from the twinkle in his eyes. I waited for him to bring those thoughts to me, falling more and more in love all the time. _What is it, Yuuri?_

"I'm going to skate my routine," Yuuri said. "Coach Kanako would never let me, but I'll leak it on Youtube, all in one take. I'll show them that even if they deem me unable to skate, that I can score higher than anyone else."

Holy shit, Yuuri. His tone left no room for argument.

"I guess I'll book my flight," I said.

Yuuri's eyes jumped back to his phone. "What?"

"I can't even return to the ice yet," I said, "but I can still fly, since it's not the concussion they're really worried about. If your coach won't let you do it, but you're going to do it anyways, I might as well be with you."

I'd never seen Yuuri so full of hope. "You're coming here?"

"Yeah."

I pushed Makkachin out of my face. My dog had only just now realized he could hear Yuuri's voice and was reacting by pouncing on me. Maybe Makkachin hadn't recognized Yuuri's voice before because it was so full of confidence. My new Yuuri.

Yuuri covered his mouth with a hand and I thought he might start crying again. "I would really like that, Viktor. Thank you."

"You've no need to thank me," I said, because I really was being selfish about this. "If I'm in Japan, Yakov can't exactly stop me from skating again. I want to feel for myself what my injuries are, and judge for myself how long I should stay off the ice." I was sick of sitting around.

Yuuri nodded. I felt like we both understood each other—maybe skating right now was foolish, but neither of us wished to do anything that would ultimately compromise us later. We weren't sacrificing later seasons for this one; we were just skating again.

"I'll get your room ready," Yuuri said. "I'm afraid it has become something of a storage unit again. Are you bringing Makkachin?"

I finally let my dog lick the phone and bark at Yuuri. "Sure am."

"When will you fly out?"

"I'll see if I can catch something tonight."

"Then I'll see you soon."

End Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

_Yuuri_

As this was Minami's first year that he had qualified for the Four Continents, Coach Kanako was eager to devote more individual time to him. As soon as I got home from the hospital, I called her and explained that Viktor was flying out to visit me while he could not skate. We both agreed that she and Minami would return to his home rink in Kyushu for the rest of their prep and then reevaluate what to do afterwards, should Minami qualify for the World Championships. Everyone around me had assumed after I'd told Yuko of the doctor's decision that my skating was done, at least for this season. They apparently didn't know me that well.

Coach Kanako was pacing in front of my family's onsen, making a thousand phone calls. She waved me into my own house and I bowed back. Minami-kun was petulantly packing his bags, clearly not excited about this decision, especially since it was made without his input. Coach Kanako and I had specifically avoided including him on this decision, because we both knew how he would feel about it.

"Can I help you pack?" I asked, leaning against the doorway. Even though I was so excited to see Viktor I was about to burst at the seams, I would still miss my kouhai. He was basically one of my best friends now.

Minami didn't answer me. I noticed his suitcase was overflowing with his clothes and other stuff, all unorganized and unfolded. I sat down on the floor and pulled it to me, folding his socks and shirts and things.

"The infamous Katsuki Yuuri, folding my boxer briefs," Minami said in dismay.

"They're very cute." I held a pair up that was simply a blue color, yet Minami-kun's thin hips meant these were so small and pretty adorable.

The next thing I knew, I was knocked back on the tatami as Minami tackle-hugged me to the floor.

"Mina—"

He kissed me, hard this time, full of suppressed emotion that broke free and crashed into me.

I kissed him back, at first on reflex, then in confusion because I didn't know why he was doing this. Was this really just a goodbye kiss?

I pushed on his shoulders. _Minami, you'll never be able to move on like this._

Minami wrapped an arm under my lower back, which caused me to arch up against him.

We both gasped, but Minami quickly covered my lips with his again.

I pushed harder on his shoulders, only to have him take both my hands in one of his and plant them on the floor over my head. I could have easily broken his grip, but my mind was spinning with all of these sensations that it didn't occur to me.

Energy coursed through me, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, up and down and back again. I hadn't known it could feel like this, so incensed and alive. I hadn't known I could have had this with Viktor. Viktor must have been holding back with me, considerate of how new I was at everything—

I ripped my head to the side, breaking our kiss. "Minami, wait!"

Minami was heaving breaths, his chest pressed against mine. He was flushed, his eyes dilated.

I locked eyes with him, and felt the full weight of his despair pulling out of him. It was like I could feel him thinking _You'll never be mine_.

"Minami," I said, finally catching my breath. "I'm in love with Viktor. Not you. I'm sorry, but it's not you."

He kept watching me and the ramifications of what we were doing started to sink in. My emotions started catching up with me. "Viktor's a good guy. I told him I kissed you, just as a first kiss, and he was okay with it, but I don't know about this. I care for you, Minami, very deeply, but I think this would hurt Viktor. I can't bear to hurt him. I want to marry him. I _will_ marry him, once I win gold at Worlds."

Minami blinked at me, and that seemed to snap the mood.

He sat back and helped me to sit up. I wiped my mouth off, and we settled back into something more normal. It was like the air in the room had possessed us for a moment, and now the illusion was dissipating.

"You have an agreement with Viktor, that if you win gold at the Worlds, you'll ask for his hand?" Minami asked.

I nodded. "It had been for the Grand Prix, but." I shrugged.

"But silver doesn't count," Minami finished for me.

"Yeah."

"I want to do the same."

That took a second to sink in. "What do you mean?"

"I want you to let me ask for your hand if I win gold at Worlds," Minami said.

I gaped at him. "This is the first time you've ever qualified for the Four Continents!" I cried. Where was this outrageous confidence coming from? He only had one quad!

Minami's expression hardened. "Believe in me."

I smiled despite myself. "Of course I do." _I'm just going to marry Viktor first_.

That seemed to satisfy him. I got him packed and off to the airport. Not even ten minutes later, Viktor texted me that he had landed in Tokyo. I desperately wanted to see him, but I needed a bit to wind down from the tornado that was Minami's youthful passion.

I spent the evening eating with my family and then helping my sister clean up the rooms Coach Kanako and Minami had stayed in. It was close to midnight when I heard a car door slam and Makkachin bounding onto the front porch.

I sprinted to the door.

I opened it to find Viktor dead on his feet.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding so tired.

I didn't say a word and led him into the light of the hallway.

Viktor followed, obediently putting his hand in mine.

There were dark bags under his eyes and he had lost muscle weight. He was slim in a way that professional athletes weren't.

Makkachin jumped on me but then quickly forgot me in favor of my sister who called from the other room.

I pulled Viktor's suitcase inside.

Viktor looked like he was barely standing. I questioned whether he should have taken such a long flight after all.

"Same room?" Viktor asked.

That brought me up short. "Of course. It's your room."

Viktor gave a little shrug. "You guys are short on space. You don't have to save one for me."

That threw me. I stood there gaping at him. "Viktor..."

"Yeah?"

I shook my head, totally lost. "Do you not consider this your home?"

Viktor's eyes widened, his mouth in a little "o".

My manners caught up with me. "I'm sorry. We—my family and I—had thought you... never mind, sorry."

Viktor shook his head, clearly bewildered. "Sorry, I'm exhausted."

"Are you hungry?"

"No. I didn't have dinner, but I've passed that. I think I would throw up if I ate anything now."

I got him to his room and hopped in the onsen with him. His poor body was covered in recently-made scars. Viktor's powerful thighs and shoulders were so slimmed down now.

Viktor loved the bath, but was tapped out after only a couple of minutes. I had to help him get back out. Unwilling to open his suitcase and sort through things, he put on our onsen's robe and crawled into bed. He was out like a light. I sat on his bed and watched him sleep. Makkachin was still riled up after all the traveling and was running all over the house.

Once it looked like Viktor would sleep through the night, I returned to my room and slept.

End Chapter Twenty-Six  



	27. Chapter 27

_Viktor_

Despite having slept on all the flights yesterday, I slept again through the night and woke up at 6am. I opened my eyes and saw the sliding shoji doors that made up the walls of my room, a segment of a larger banquet hall sectioned off by rails in the floor and ceiling that allowed the sliding panels to cordon into smaller rooms. I found a bento Yuuri's mother had made for me, with my name in katakana (I could finally read it) on a sticky note taped to it. I grabbed it and headed to the rink, leaving Makkachin to sleep, wherever he was. Probably in Yuuri's sister's room.

Yuuri was at the rink. I was tired just from the bike ride over.  
I watched him skate for a bit. He was already working on his jumps again. He was hesitant, working up to it, but it didn't look like he was in pain at all, which was good.

Yuuri saw me and skated over. "Hey."

I smiled. "Hey."

Yuuri stepped off the ice and put his blade guards on.

"Is that my mom's bento? I'll sit with you while you eat."

"Yeah."

The bento was really good.

"There's something bothering me," I said.

Yuuri looked at me questioningly.

I struggled with what words to use. "I woke up this morning feeling like I'd biffed it last night in my conversation with you."

Yuuri's lips were quirking up at the corners, his nostrils flared. He was suppressing a laugh.

I deflated. "I did, didn't I?"

"You mean you don't remember?"

"I don't even remember how I got to your house last night. I was so tired."

"Yeah you looked pretty raw."

I waited for him to explain. "What did I say?"

Yuuri's eyes went soft. He patted my shoulder softly. "Don't worry about it."

But when Yuuri got up and stretched, standing a ways in front of me, I still felt like I needed to make amends for whatever had happened last night. Not because Yuuri would hold a grudge—he clearly didn't—but because I wanted to atone for anything I'd done and then ask him something in return.

"At least let me apologize?" I asked.

Yuuri turned back to look at me, and I realized what had been bothering me before. The way Yuuri moved now, the sensuality that wasn't forced, the confident vulnerability that came all too easily—

"You slept with him," I said in shock.

Yuuri was down touching his toes. "What babe?"

I felt so stupid.

"Put me at ease," I begged, not even knowing what I was saying anymore.

"What? I just didn't hear what you said."

"I…" Suddenly my thoughts were racing so fast I didn't know which way was up. I couldn't find my way through the noise.

"Viktor!"

I heard Yuuri's voice as if from a distance. At first all I could see was white, but I felt him shaking me by the arms and Yuuri came into focus, kneeling in front of me, his expression one of concern.

"What good am I?" I said. What on earth was I saying?

"What's going on, Viktor?" Yuuri said. "Are you okay?"

Is this what a panic attack felt like? Yuuri's panic had always looked so different than how this felt. Yuuri would breathe fast and sweat and tremble and cry, but right now I had never felt so defeated, as if through my injuries I had been rendered useless. It felt so dismal, it was like I hadn't just been barred from the European Championships, but from ever skating again, even though that clearly wasn't true.

"What are you talking about?" Yuuri begged. "Please tell me."

"Tell me what I said wrong last night," I repeated. "I really do want to make amends. Please, Yuuri, don't brush this off."

At seeing me return to myself somewhat, Yuuri calmed and sat on the bench beside me. "You had assumed we'd given your room over to a guest or to some other purpose. In truth we had put some boxes in there, but it was always still your room."

I nodded, not seeing how any of that was a problem.

"I asked you if you didn't consider this your home," Yuuri continued, "and you looked at me like what I said didn't make any sense."

I set the bento box aside and looked at my partner.

I tried to answer as honestly as I could.

"I guess when I think of the word home, I think of Saint Petersburg, just because I've spent the most time there, training and everything, but when I think of family, I think of _your_ family, Yuuri."

Yuuri's smile was as bright as the stars. "I heard from Yurio that you're pretty distant from your family, so I'm glad you think that, Viktor."

Distant was an understatement, but I was glad that was all Yurio had told Yuuri. "Yeah. I like Saint Petersburg. I had hoped you would stay, but there's a special place in my heart for Hasetsu. I guess I don't really have a sense of home yet, but I want to be with you, so hopefully one day it'll just be wherever you are. Is that cheesy?"

Yuuri shook his head no. "I think it's a great idea. It means we can move around if we want in the future, for training and things like that. I like that idea."

I smiled at how easy it had been to set things right. "See? You should let me set things right more often."

Yuuri laughed. "Sorry, sorry."

He got up again and stretched against the barricade. I finished eating.

I sighed and walked over to Yuuri stretching that lithe body against the barricade. My body hurt all over—I'd been an idiot and left my pain meds back at the onsen—but seeing Yuuri like this was twisting me up in inside.

Yuuri turned around and leaned back against the barricade, his elbows propped up on it, tilting his hips in such a way that it practically commanded I put my hands on either side of him and stand right in his space.

"Hey there," Yuuri said.

He knew exactly what I was doing.

"Did you sleep with him?" I asked.

Yuuri started. "With Minami?"

I nodded, not taking my eyes off Yuuri's expressions, ones that he was failing to hide.

Yuuri looked to the side, his breathing shallow.

He did. It hurt. It hurt, but—

"I forgive you," I said.

Yuuri whipped back around to lock eyes with me. "What?"

"I forgive you," I repeated. "Just stay with me. I still want you. Hell, Yuuri, you're so new at this, it's okay for you to have more than one partner. To marry your first love... it's limiting, and I don't want to hold you back."

Yuuri looked really confused. "You mean you wouldn't leave me if I slept with him?"

Wait. "You didn't sleep with him?"

Yuuri shook his head. "No. I didn't sleep with Minami. I almost did."

I pulled Yuuri to me, hugging him so hard my whole body hurt.

"Viktor!"

"I take it all back," I said. "Don't sleep with him, Yuuri, if you haven't. Be with me, please."

"Viktor." Yuuri hugged me back. "Stop worrying. Let's skate."

I laughed. "Yeah."

The End—Chapter Twenty-Seven

 


	28. Chapter 28

_Two weeks later_

_Viktor_

It was the week before the Four Continents. Yuuri had rented time at the Olympic rink in Nagano and paid to bullet train all the Nishigori's out for the video recording. Hayakawa and Keiko-chan were here to record for the documentary. Yuuri wasn't at all as nervous as he usually was before a competition, but he was basically in front of his extended family, and his partner. Maybe this way he could skate a personal best. Though we didn’t have any judges to score his performance, we would have every angle if someone chose to.

Yuuri blew his nose and handed me the tissue. He looked around to Yuko, Nishigori and the three triplets stationed at equidistant parts around the rink, all with cameras. Two of them would be live streaming, the remaining three getting video for three Youtubes, all in one take. No cut scenes for someone to shout he'd done a do-over.

Axel and Lutz had already called out that the livestream had started and was already trending on Twitter (it helped that Yuuri had alerted Pichit-kun to his shenanigans and therefore the Thai Twitter-star had helped publicize it. Mila was also in on this for the Russian fans.). Yuuri didn't know when the ISU physician would release his findings, though Yuuri had been told two days ago in Tokyo that it would probably just take a couple of days. Yuuri wanted this video to air before then.

Yuuri looked up at me, that constant question in his eyes.

I shook my head. "Focus on what you need to do. I'll check it after you skate." I'd been glued to my phone lately because the ISU was evaluating whether my performance at Russian Nationals could somehow qualify me for Worlds since my physicians had said I absolutely could not skate at the European Championships. I hoped so, of course. In just one competition, I had taken my world records back: highest short program score from Yurio, highest long program score from Yuuri. And, having done that in one competition, I had overtaken my own record of holding the highest combined score, so there was that. I hoped not that I would bump someone out of the running at the European Championships, but that they would add me on as a seventh skater of sorts. Chris had won the European Championships last weekend, with Yurio in a close second because he'd stood up from a jump. One jump—it'd been that close.

Yuuri nodded. "Watch me skate, Viktor. I want to show you what I've become since you left for Saint Petersburg."

My chest ached. "Show me."

He held out his left hand with his ring on it for me to kiss. Hayakawa got the footage, almost bumping shoulders with me to get in close.

I held his fingers to my lips an extra moment, then locked eyes with him. "Go."

Yuuri nodded and skated away.

When the music started and Yuuri began to skate, arms up with a huge loop all the way down, looking up at the sky with his eyes closed. Oh Yuuri, how I've missed watching you skate.

He was looking a little stiff, and I realized the pressure must be on for the livestream, because indeed, there were no do-overs. That was one thing that made it like the Four Continents. I clenched my hands together. "Come on, Yuuri."

It was like he let go of all his tension at the last second and whipped up into his first quad so suddenly I heard a collective gasp from the Nishigori's and Keiko. The resemblance was clear: those surprising jumps, out of nowhere with almost no lead-in. Yuuri was skating like Yuzuru Hanyu.

He pounded out a quad toe loop and triple salchow, his hands raised for the triple, no loop in between.

"Whoa!" I pounded my fists in the air. "Yes!" Hayakawa stayed by my side and filmed everything I did.

Holy cow, Yuuri, you've added at least three points to that combination sequence!

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I tried to ignore it, but I was so distracted by it, I wasn't giving Yuuri my full attention. I whipped it out really fast and in horror realized it was the announcement from the ISU.

I looked up just in time to see Yuuri nail his quad flip, going into it from a spread eagle. The Nishigori's cheered, but I felt like my heart was about to pound out of my chest.

I opened the announcement and scrolled down past a huge photo of me to the headline.

"Viktor Nikiforov's medical withdrawal from European Championships to result in Elimination from World Championships, ISU Judges say."

I heard the Nishigori's cheer again, but I couldn't take my eyes off my phone. I kept swiping at my eyes to clear it of tears, because I'll be damned if… I'll be damned if…

"Viktor has always done what he wants," Yakov was quoted as saying. He hadn't even told me they'd asked him for comment. It meant he'd known beforehand and hadn't told me. I was sure he was still angry at me for ghosting off to Japan (again).

"However," Yakov continued, "Viktor is an adult. He is a grown man, and will not look kindly on others making decisions for him. I anticipate that he will not retire from skating simply because of this set back."

"Will Viktor still be on the Olympic team for Russia in Reykjavik?" the journalist asked.

"Of course," Yakov replied. "For once, I will not stop him. Viktor sacrificed himself to protect one of Russia's most talented young skaters who has a long career ahead of him, and for that I am grateful. Viktor knows his body and his athleticism. If he determines for himself that he wishes to take his place on the Russian Olympic team, then the place is still available for him. I, for one, will not request an ISU physician evaluation for him beforehand."

The tears streamed now. I ducked down below the barricade and Hayakawa followed me down. I hid my face in my hands, ashamed to disappear on Yuuri at a time like this, but so proud of my coach for sticking up for me when I was the most kicked down. The fuckers. I somehow wondered if the physician had been bribed by other skating federations. It had been long enough since skaters begged their federations to not list them against me early in the Grand Prix series, because they assumed I would win and they would thus get eliminated early. But this would not, I absolutely could not allow it to happen to Yuuri.

I scrubbed my eyes, breathing out the last of my sobs, and stood up.

Yuuri landed his triple axel, triple toe, with his hands in the air both times.

"Good god," I whispered, clapping my gloved hands. "Yuuri! Go!"

Yuuri picked up speed for the last job, a quad toe, nailed it. Didn't even flinch.

The Nishigori's cheered as Yuuri fell into his final spin sequence, then stretched out, his hand extending toward me.

Though I tried to hide it, I saw Yuuri read the despair on my face, his eyes widening even as he heaved for air.

Yuuri spun around for bows in all directions, then looped the ice twice and thanked each cameraman and each audience through the feed. Then Yuuri skated over to the door, where I stood with my arms out.

Yuuri grinned. I handed him his guards and he flipped them on, stepped off the rink and into my arms.

"Good job, Yuuri," I said. "That was wonderful."

"Did you think so?" Yuuri panted.

"Yes. You can take the Worlds if you skate like that from now on."

Yuuri gripped me hard and nodded against my shoulder. "I will."

Hayakawa was getting all of this while the other cameramen returned. I held Yuuri tight, wishing we could have this private moment away from the camera. My phone was blowing up in my pocket, but I ignored it. I was already crushed; I didn't need to hear everyone's reactions about it.

"Yuuri!" Yuko and Nishigori and the triplets converged on Yuuri, separating him from my side and clapping him on the back. "That was amazing! Incredible!"

"Viktor," Hayakawa said.

I turned to the cameraman and the thought struck me. "Are you livestreaming this?"

"Yes," he said.

Oh wow, so my reaction to the announcement had been broadcast everywhere without my consent. Cool dude, thanks a lot.

"Have you seen the announcement?" Hayakawa asked.

"You know I have," I said softly, hoping the Yuuri entourage wouldn't hear us.

"Do you have a comment for the stream?" he asked.

I heaved a breath and let it out. "I read my coach's comments and appreciate them a lot. I guess I have a lot to think about, and a lot of training to do, once I'm cleared by my physicians to train again, that is."

"Have you been training with Yuuri here in Japan?" he asked.

I saw a smirk from behind the camera, and I smirked back. Hayakawa was not a lecherous man, so I knew he was just teasing me right now. He had seen me training with Yuuri the last couple of weeks, so of course he knew this information, probably had footage of it. What he was really asking now was whether I was willing to admit to the world that I had been training with Yuuri without my doctor's permission.

I looked at Hayakawa's camera dead center, suppressing a laugh as best I could because I was such a terrible liar. Yuuri was always so smooth with Hayakawa, so I tried to think of what Yuuri might say to him.

"No," I managed, then just outright laughed. "Not at all. Sorry to disappoint."

"I see," Hayakawa said, his smile equally wide.

Yuuri came back to my side, stretched up on the front of his skates and kissed me on the cheek. I looked at him wide-eyed, trying to beam at him _We're on a livestream!_

Then he kissed me on the lips for good measure.

"L-livestream!" I squeaked.

Yuuri looked at Hayakawa and popped a hip out. "What do you need, Hayakawa-san?"

"How do you feel your skate went today, Yuuri?" Keiko asked.

Yuuri nodded and spoke with her, knowing the fans would like post-skate material like this, though of course we were doing this to prove something for the ISU, but it helped to have the fans on our side. Yuuri might as well milk it, as this may be his last chance to prove he could skate this season. I'd already lost mine.

Yuuri leaned into my side and wrapped an arm around my waist. As he lay his head in the crook connecting my neck and collarbone and I rested my cheek on top of his head, Yuuri's reliance on me renewed my strength compared to earlier when I had felt so shattered.

"Oh no," one of the triplets said. The other two rushed over and leaned over her shoulders, looking at her phone.

_No_ , I begged them. _Don't ruin Yuuri's moment._

All together the three of them looked at me. They were trying to see if I knew.

I shook my head and glared, my warning clear. Their eyes widened and they looked at each other.

"Oh Viktor, you just got eliminated from Worlds!" Nishigori shouted.

"Dad!!"

"What?" Yuuri looked up at me. "Did you know?"

"I did," I said. "It came through while you were skating."

Yuuri's mouth hung open. "That was when you disappeared for a while."

I cringed. "Sorry."

"Yuuri, what do you think of this?" Hayakawa asked.

Yuuri wouldn't take his eyes off me. "Viktor," he whispered. "Are you okay?"

"No," I said softly.

In fact, I really needed to get away from the cameras for a while. I wanted to skate, as this was an Olympic-sized rink at Nagano and we only had it for one day, but I so desperately wanted some privacy with Yuuri to figure out how I should feel about all this.

Yuuri hugged me and looked back at Hayakawa. "I need some time alone with my coach. He needs to help me train. Goodbye now."

He reached out and gently touched his hand over the lens of Hayakawa's camera. Hayakawa pulled his camera down, giving us both a sympathetic smile. "The stream's over. I think it might help garner some support, if the ISU is taking public opinion into consideration at all."

Yuuri looked around at everyone and thanked all of us again for our technical and emotional support. "Let's hope this is enough to get me to Worlds," he said.

"For Worlds," Yuko said. We all nodded.

End Chapter Twenty-Eight

 


	29. Chapter 29

_Yuuri_

The Nishigori's and Hayakawa and Keiko-chan had left after my skate, but Viktor and I stayed to train more on the Olympic-sized rink. It was such a rare opportunity for me. I was incredibly spoiled to have the Hasetsu rink to myself outside of their business hours, but ultimately the rink there was only a fourth of the size I skated on in competition. It made the adjustment a challenge, but since stamina was my forte, I could use the adrenaline to pound it out, except for when my nerves exhausted me, then with the added rink size I was done for.

Once the cameras were gone, Viktor skated with me. He'd gone off his pain meds a week ago, before his doctors recommended it of course, but Viktor was strong and said he wanted to know what his injuries actually felt like. It had been emotionally hard for me to witness him in pain, but he was slowly getting his skating back, which fed his soul more than anything. Witnessing Viktor's return to himself just inspired me to work harder. The goal for both of us was to get as far as we could, as fast as we could, without injury, that last part the imperative.

"How much was this place to rent for the day?" Viktor asked.

I told him.

Viktor gave a shrug. "I'll pay it for another day, if they're able to change their plans at the last minute."

I called my manager (this was all so weird—I had both a publicist and a manager now) and asked her to arrange it for us.

That night Viktor and I stayed at a hotel and bathed at a public hot spring down the street. We were both so exhausted from skating so hard, we both fell asleep without much ado and didn't have a chance to enjoy the privacy of a hotel room at all.

We trained all through the next day on the Olympic rink. It was incredible. It reminded me why skaters moved to the major cities to be with their coaches. But just having that rink all to ourselves, all day with Viktor, it was like a honeymoon. It was heaven on Earth.

"What is your exhibition for Worlds?" Viktor asked me.

I huffed and thought about it. For Japanese nationals, I had skated Viktor's routine from last year (the one that the triplets put on Youtube and that brought Viktor to me), and then for Russian Nationals Viktor had done the same, which was kind of weird but also pretty cool.

Viktor skated up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pushing me back into the barricade. I tilted my head up and kissed him. Only one thing could distract me from such a fantastic rink, and it was this. Viktor traced my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and my thoughts flew away. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed my hips against him. Viktor groaned against my mouth and deepened the kiss.

Viktor finally broke the kiss and held me as I struggled to regain my breath and pull myself back down from the clouds. I panted against him, completely at his mercy.

"Do you miss him?" Viktor asked.

"Wha? Who?"

"Minami. Do you miss him?"

That question was like a bucket of ice water splashed in my face. I pulled back to look him square in the face. "You get me this turned on when we're trying to practice and then ask me a question like that?" What exactly was he up to?

Viktor looked remorseful. "Sorry. I'm just a little jealous is all."

"Don't be," I said simply. "There was a choice. He chose me and I chose you, so don't be."

Viktor pulled me into a more tender hug, swaying me back and forth as if we were dancing. It was awkward, but felt nice. He hummed a little something, a few frames and then a few more. I reveled in the feeling of his chest and throat vibrating, his thick voice low and rich.

I jolted. "That's the! You're humming our pairs routine! Gravity!"

Viktor laughed. "Want to skate it with me as your exhibition at Worlds?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Yes, yes!"

Viktor pushed away, his hands extended out, leading me to the center of the ice. "Come on, then."

#

The next morning, I woke cold, and looked over to find the culprit: Viktor wrapped up nice and cozy in all the sheets and blankets of the hotel bed. I'd made him pay last night for all the teasing he'd done during the day while I was trying to focus. Not that he hadn't enjoyed it.

I scooted up in bed and turned my phone on, mashing the mute button so it wouldn't wake Viktor. I scrolled through my Twitter feed (which was mostly Pichit's twitter feed) and glanced over everything covering my skate from two days ago, which I had ardently ignored in favor of training with Viktor on that gorgeous rink. I was actually quite sad to be returning to Hasetsu today, and supremely jealous of the skaters that got to train on this rink full-time.

Sure enough, two of the ISU judges had gotten together and graded my performance. You couldn't tell who they were, because they'd hidden their aliases, but the ISU website had publicized it and verified they were their judges. The Youtube videos from the Nishigori's had been reposted with the scoring boxes on both the upper left and upper right corners, to show how each judge had differed in their interpretation. I finally watched my skate then, noticing my mistakes, and when I'd deflated just a bit at noticing Viktor wasn't there, but still rallied in time to land my jumps. The technical scores increased with each element as the judges awarded points. They'd even taken the care (or whoever at the ISU had helped them with the video) to list my current personal best on top of their increasing score.

By the end, one judge thought I had surpassed my personal best from the Grand Prix Finals, and the other thought I had fallen just short of it. Combined with my performance score, both agreed that I had done a solid skate, but nothing record-worthy. They'd posted some commentary on the web page giving suggestions, which I found encouraging. Both of them said I was working hard and easily qualified for Worlds with this skate, but they both also claimed that with this exact skate they did not think I would medal at Worlds.

We'll see about that.

I scrolled up to the more recent updates I'd missed, hoping to hear from the ISU physician whether I was even to be allowed to skate at Worlds since I was restricted from the Four Continents.

I found the announcement and gasped. Pitchit had retweeted it to me, then retweeted it to everyone.

They'd refused my right to skate at Worlds. My season was over. Viktor had access to the Olympics still, at the very least on the team figure skating competition because he was from Russia, but it was a rare occasion that the Japanese figure skaters made it for the team event, so I had been hoping to qualify for the Olympic team individually just in case.

I looked over at Viktor who was still sleeping peacefully. Just two days ago he'd been practically forced to retire, though Yakov was doing what he could. How had Viktor handled it then? I was so devastated I was surprised it didn't wake him up. I sat back against the headboard and sighed, absolutely crushed. I was so low I couldn't even muster the energy to cry it out.

People had retweeted the announcement far and wide, with any condolences sent my way as I'd slept and many people asking me what I was going to do. How could I already know what I would do, so soon after an announcement like this? I'd arranged this entire free skate in Nagano just to prove that I could do it, and didn't need to be kept from the ice.

It hurt. Bless the sky it hurt.

I was doing a pretty good job of not crying. Maybe I could slide back down the covers and curl up behind Viktor and pretend I hadn't read anything. My skating career was still alive, my season still going, no worries. No worries at all.

So then I scrolled up in the Twitter feed and saw a strange Instagram post that I couldn't open, or maybe it was a Snapchat (Pitchit was my expert on these things), something from Mila. I hadn't thought it was a big deal—Mila's feed was either of her slamming out some ridiculous jumps or of Yurio's foul tantrums—which I could use for some comic relief but otherwise didn't really need right now.

But then everyone was reacting to the short video post, in amazement, in shock, just generally freaking out and I didn't know why, so I plugged my earbuds in and watched it.

Of course it was in Russian and I didn't understand a thing.

What I did understand was Yakov absolutely bellowing at Yurio, who stormed out of the rink with a quick peace sign flashed at Mila on the way.

…wait a second.

Why did Yurio leave practice? Why was Yakov _that_ mad?

I searched around for other evidence to lend me some assistance, even messaging Pichit asking him what was going on until I realized he would of course still be asleep in Bangkok. Then I found another video, this time from Yurio's feed, and played it.

"Oh hello," Yurio said, and I realized I hardly ever heard him speak English. Yurio spoke Russian with Viktor, of course, but he had picked up Japanese fast enough from his lessons with Yuko that he could make himself understood in Japanese with me.

"I got the news that Viktor is banned from the World Championships because he could not compete in the European Championships," he said. "Also that Katsuki Yuuri has been banned from the Four Continents despite posting a video that proves he is more than capable of skating at the 4C right now. If this trend continues, Katsuki Yuuri will be kept from competing at the Worlds as well."

Yurio pursed his lips and squinted his eyes, but then it flattened out into something of a duckface when he tried to hold his smirk back.

_Oh Yurio, you wouldn't…_

"Considering I wouldn't be competing against my rivals, and that they would be kept from competing against me due to decisions out of their control, I withdraw from participation in the Worlds. Peace out and see you at the Olympics."

I gasped. No wonder Yakov was screaming his head off in Mila's video. I was gaping at my phone when an update posted, this one from Christophe Giaccometti.

The first thing Chris did was greet his audience with a kiss and then say "You know, I can't bear to be on the ice without Viktor anymore, and even his little puppies that follow him around, so I withdraw my participation in the Worlds. Have fun, JJ! You're king now, kisses, bye!"

As I contemplated whether Chris had just referred to Yurio and I as Viktor's puppies, I got a message from Pichit. It was the middle of the night in Thailand.

"Yuuri-kun, watch this!" the message said.

_Oh god, Pichit!_

"No no no no no no no…" I said to my phone, begging it to slow time enough for me to message my friend back and tell him not to do it. Don't throw his first chance at a world title away!

Pichit's video popped up on my Twitter feed.

His charming smile just killed me, as Pichit described his reasons that he would only ever want to compete against his greatest friends and rivals under completely fair conditions, and until that time, he withdrew from Worlds and would see everyone at the Olympics when he represented Thailand.

Minami-kun texted me in the middle of Pichit's video. " _Yuuri, what's going on? I wake up for training and my Twitter feed has gone nuts_."

" _Don't read anything_ ," I typed back furiously. " _Go train, now! Turn your phone off and leave it at home!_ "

" _Oh okay, don't worry Yuuri I'll do as you say,_ " Minami replied. " _Can I get a kiss for this?_ "

" _Don't push it,_ " I typed with a smile.

Minami's video popped up.

_NO!_ His first time qualifying and he withdraws!

Otabek's video showed up shortly thereafter, and his was the most grave, but also provided the best reasons for his decision. He sat at a writing desk, his glasses making him look overly bookish.

"The concept of the ISU determining whether a skater can compete based on medical reasons is something I would like to call into question," Otabek said simply, his deep voice naturally serious. "As figure skaters, we automatically sign ourselves up to a sport that will inflict us with so many injuries that it will eventually force us to retire, no matter to how much we love to skate and compete. It is like submitting your body as a sacrifice to your nation in the form of becoming a soldier, but here, we are athletes for our sport, physical sacrifices for our art."

Holy shit, Otabek.

He finished his video and I turned off my phone. I couldn't handle it anymore.

Viktor mumbled something in his sleep, but I quietly slipped out and jogged over to the Nagano rink.

It was an hour before it opened. I begged them to be allowed to skate. They had already zambonied the ice the night before, so I covered the huge Olympic stretch of ice and let my thoughts unwind and my mind relax. An hour later, one by one skaters would join me on the ice and start working with their coaches. I envied their constant use of this rink, but they still had to share it, so I possessively relished returning to Hasetsu and skating there tonight.

"That's Katsuki Yuuri-san!" someone squealed from across the rink.

I pretended I hadn't heard. I should probably leave soon. Hanyu Yuzuru having to hire bodyguards flashed into my mind, but I scolded myself for my vanity. Hanyu was so much more charming than I was, and much less awkward. Hanyu knew how to satisfy his fans. God, those rain showers of Poo bears that would pour onto the ice after his performances… I barely got a bouquet thrown down, which was for the best really. I'd biffed it once trying to swoop down and pick one up, so out of my mind with nerves even after finishing my skate. Plus, I wondered if there were some more conservative parents that forbade their kids from looking up to me because I was openly gay. The young generation was different, and maybe some of them still watched me skate secretly online, but still.

I heard blades b-lining directly toward me on the ice and whipped around, scared a young skater had gone rogue and approached me directly. Private practice time was sacred!

It was Viktor.

The sight of him on the ice was such a relief for so many reasons.

"You turned your phone off, didn't you?" Viktor said with a smile.

He stopped in front of me and gave me a big hug.

"You've got a crowd forming outside," Viktor said. "What say we head to the train station and see if we can't get our tickets changed to earlier? I'm eager to get back to the boonies and practice."

"Me too," I said. "The crowd's for you though, silly."

"They were already here when I arrived," Viktor said. "They complained when I tried to force my way through to get inside."

I laughed. "Wow."

"Let's go home, Yuuri."

I squeezed Viktor tight. "Yeah."

End Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated <3


	30. Chapter 30

_Viktor_

It felt great to return to the Japanese countryside.

With all the fallout of basically the entire lineup for the World Championships (except JJ) dropping out in protest, Yuuri had turned off his phone and left it in the back of the closet. I was glad for it. It allowed us to train without Yuuri wondering what other people were doing or what other people thought, for once.

In the days that followed, the ISU fined every skater that had withdrawn. In response, Yurio tweeted out that if any of the skaters who had withdrawn didn't have the money to pay the fine, they could hit him up and he'd gladly paid for it out of his Grand Prix money. I texted him to set up an account that I could monitor, which he did, and I paid into it. I'd amassed a lot more prize money over the years than he, and this felt like a good way to express my gratitude.

As soon as so many male figure skaters had dropped out, the ISU released an announcement that the male components of the World Championships were under review pending an investigation. Immediately, I'd tweeted asking the male skaters to stand together with those who had dropped out, but I'd then asked female skaters and pairs and ice dancers to still compete at Worlds. There wasn't enough support in the other categories for it to mean something. Yuuri was good friends with the Shibutani siblings in ice dancing, for example, but if they were to drop out and no one else did in the ice dance, all that would happen is they would lose their chance at Worlds this year. For the men's figure skating, though, by standing together, we had effectively shut down the competition. Ground it to a halt, until someone listened to us. Because we had done this together.

I'd also tweeted that as a thank-you present for the male skaters who had followed Yurio's lead, that I would choreograph a program for them sometime for free. I'd meant it as a joke, but from the eager responses, it had turned into the real thing. I'd have my work cut out for me next season.

Yuuri was oblivious to all of this, now almost completely disconnected except for the occasional video call with Phichit since they were friends.

We kept training as if Yuuri would be competing at Worlds. We practiced our pairs routine together, the same one from the Grand Prix Finals with _Hanarezu ni soba ni ite_ , though we took out the one jump sequence we did together because I still couldn't jump. Not that I was listening to my doctors back in Russia anymore; from Yuuri's influence I was pretty much over that. I was willing to call it an end to this season, but not an end to my program, nor the message it sent. Russia would be seeing me skate this at the Russian Championships and use it to qualify for the Grand Prix Series next fall, and the world would see this at the Olympics, once I made a total come back.

Yakov had been so completely livid at Yurio's recent life decisions that Yurio had come to Hasetsu for two weeks to train with us. The Nishigori's and the Katsuki's were glad to have him. Once Yuuri's mother realized that Yurio was in the midst of his growth spurt, she fed him nonstop. Yurio would inhale her cooking at every mealtime, and she would bounce back to the kitchen with her secret smile. It was pretty great.

At my suggestion, the Nishigori's helped Yuuri and I record a video of our exhibition skate together and we posted it online. It was a positive message amidst all the drama, which was definitely our style. Plus, skating the routine together took Yuuri's stress away and made him smile at me; how could I refuse?

Yakov finally cooled down enough to tell Yurio to come back, so on Yurio's last night in Hasetsu we had a big family dinner that included Minako-sensei and the Nishigori's. So much food and laughter! Yet Yurio found something to complain about—since he was underage, he was stuck with the triplets drinking sparkling water instead of the good juice with the adults.

We all toasted each other and Yurio's visit and drank, but then Yurio held out his glass of sparkling ice water again.

I held my wine out, and when everyone else noticed, they did too. We all looked at Yurio, waiting for him to say whatever toast he had in mind that had interrupted our happy flow.

Yurio glanced at me and then diligently glared at his glass. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Viktor, for protecting me that day," Yurio said in Japanese.

There was a sharp intake of breath at the table, and I wasn't the only one doing it. I felt Yuuri put a supportive hand on my thigh under the table.

Yurio glanced at me again, clenched and unclenched his jaw, fighting down a blush. "I'd never been in a situation so scary. A mob stampeding is seriously the worst, but you had thought to protect me at your own expense. If that speaker tower had slammed into me instead of you, I'd probably be dead."

This was really getting to me. He looked at me for some kind of answer. I struggled to find the words I wanted in Japanese.

"You are like a little brother to me," I said, knowing how stupid I probably sounded, but also that Yuuri's family wouldn't understand if I spoke in anything but Japanese.

Everyone watched me while I dug around for the right words, looking to Yuuri for help, but he couldn't exactly read my mind right now.

I finally found them. "I did not hesitate, because of how important you are to me, Yurio," I said.

I watched him as I said this. Yurio got that look in his eyes like when I'd hugged him before his free skate at the Grand Prix Finals this year, the look he got when he'd let someone in, and was actually listening, and vulnerable. I knew I held a unique power to do that to Yurio, because of who I have been to him since he was young.

I switched to Russian. "You know it's true," I said softly. "If I were put in the same situation again, I would do the exact same thing."

At hearing me confirm it in our native language, Yurio ducked his head and brought his cup back down to the table. In the silent stillness of the rest of the table, Yurio's sob cut through the happy revelry of before and ripped it to shreds. He scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and sobbed again, a snot-filled, gross, childish sound.

I scooted around the corner of the table and wrapped an arm around Yurio's shoulders. I looked to Yuuri for help, but Yuuri covered his face with his hands.

"I'd thought you were dead," Yurio said in Russian, in between his snot-filled sobs. "I couldn't wake you up, and I couldn't hear whether you were breathing because everything was so loud. I'd thought you were going to die right there with me holding you…"

"Shh, it's okay, it didn't happen," I said, trying to soothe him but god, I'd never been good at stuff like this, and I'd never seen Yuri Plisetsky fall apart.

Then one of the triplets sneezed, effectively slicing through the thick atmosphere. The triplet next to her sneezed a few seconds later, garnering a couple of comments in Japanese as everyone waited for the third triplet to sneeze. Yurio leaned into me, hiding his face from everyone.

Then Minako-sensei held her glass up. "To bonds."

I tucked Yurio under my chin and raised my glass for the two of us. Yuuri was able to collect himself enough to raise a glass.

Then in unison, we all said together and then drank:

To bonds.

End Chapter Thirty

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted the last chapter, I did not bother to check my email for reviews because feedback from this fic has been so sparse except for one (thanks Onai!). I was so happy to get two more reviewers! Thanks guys! Reading your comments was so inspirational to me I was hit with a muse for a story that has had me occupied the last few days.
> 
> My original motivation for this fic was to pay homage to an anime that has really inspired me, but also to get feedback from readers, and hopefully encouragement or comments that they liked it. I am a pro writer, with one book and two short stories out with publishers. Writing is a very solitary job, and I was hoping for more interaction through a fan fiction, since original fiction often takes more than a year from the time you type "The End" until it's in print and in the hands of readers. 
> 
> That being said, the emotional payoff has not been enough with this endeavor. I found myself hanging on the hope that I would get even just little scraps of words from someone, and being disappointed in the end when nothing came. I'm still glad I did it, but I'm leaning towards not writing and posting a fanfiction again. In the time it took me to write and edit this, I could be well on my way to completing a publishable manuscript that could help pay the bills. 
> 
> I've already finished one more story (40k words) that had started as an idea for a fanfiction, but when I'd noticed how few comments I received, I converted it to an original manuscript. I'm also halfway through another such story, and both are the start of a series. The characters have really gone their own way since I gave them their own names, so it would be strange to convert them back into Yuuri and Viktor, but I don't know, what do you guys think? If I thought I would actually get the chance to interact with fans, I'd love to post them here (I'll have to check to see if this is okay with my publisher). Let me know how you guys feel.
> 
> Now on with the show. Please enjoy the last chapters. <3 :D Thanks for reading.

_Yuuri_

A few days later, Viktor woke me in the middle of the night.

"Yuuri! Wake up!" he shook my shoulder.

"Hnnngh," I groaned. We'd tumbled in the sheets until late last night, done a midnight soak under the stars and collapsed in Viktor's bed. I wasn't even close to wanting to wake up yet.

"Yuuri!"

"Is it practice time yet?" I asked.

"No, it's the middle of the night."

_What the?_

Viktor turned up his bedside lamp. I blinked my eyes open, but Viktor was still a gorgeous blur.

"Sweetie, unless I either need to practice, or have sex with you, I'd really prefer to be asleep right now," I said.

"Yuuri, I promise this is worth it."

I felt my glasses pushed into my right hand and Viktor's phone into my left. Reluctantly, I put my glasses on and blinked just enough to be able to read whatever Viktor wanted me to see. I was definitely going right back to sleep after this.

My eyes registered a dark photo on the screen with glittery purples and blues. I blinked some more and realized it was a photo of me skating my free skate.

My heart picked up its pace.

I pulled the photo down to get to the headline and gasped.

_Japanese Skater Katsuki Yuuri Cleared to Compete in World Championships by ISU._

The secondary heading: Yuri Plisetsky and all withdrawn skaters have accepted invitation back to the championship title.

I scrambled out of bed and leapt in the air. "Yes! Yes!"

Viktor grabbed me in a hug and swung me around.

#

_Hayakawa_

In twenty years of photography, no skater has ever taken me on such a wild ride as Katzuki Yuuri.

A slender, humble boy from the countryside, riddled with anxiety but bursting with hope and talent, Katsuki Yuuri reminded me of why I originally got into photography and film. It took everything Yuuri had to skate until he got noticed, to not give in to what everyone else around him was doing, which was life as usual. It was the same for me, when I'd packed a bag and left for Tokyo to "become an artist" and starve.

I'd left behind all the expectations my parents had for me, my place in my community, my lover, everything. Yuuri had to balance the fact that his friends and family supported him, but had never done anything on the level of what he was attempting, so there was no example in his life to lead the way for him. Yuuri had learned about Viktor and idolized him, using his dream to one day skate on the same ice as Viktor to finally push himself to a level that would earn him a coach.

I'd watched—and recorded—that young budding love that has now blossomed into an adult partnership. Suffice it to say, it has changed me. As a straight man, I'd never known watching a gay relationship could be so relatable. Since starting the documentary series, I've gone home early every night and kissed my wife. I've treasured her in ways I hadn't before. These young men have taught me the value of loving someone despite what the legal system, and therefore society, says.

In return, I'd sold Yuuri to Japan, and as much as I could, to the world.

Yuuri was now so accustomed to being photographed and on video camera that he knew what was wanted from me and gave it freely. Yuuri had always been authentic, a genuine person, but that authenticity was so deeply hidden under his anxiety that he wasn't very sympathetic on the screen. After my first photo shoot with Yuuri, I'd taken him on as a challenge to see if I could awaken his sensuality and capture it on camera, the way he was trying to with his short program. Yuuri's Eros. What had started as a mere fancy had turned into admiration of this young skater who had fallen in love with the most decorated skater in the world, and instead of being crushed by that shadow, had thrived in it and now was about to embark upon his first World Championships medal attempt.

In the process of falling in love, what should by all accounts be a private affair, of first love so young and precious, but because that partner happened to be another man, these two had been thrust to the global stage against their will, and they had suffered dearly for it. I had so much footage of Yuuri in the hospital, but I didn't have the heart to release most of it to the internet. Even so, I had done my part, to the absolute best of my ability, to broadcast the normalcy of these young men to the people of Japan and the internet audience. In so doing, I realized I had reconnected with my passion that drove me out of the countryside and into Tokyo as a young man, that pursuit of art, that desire to find the heart of things through the lens of my camera, to capture the good inside of the world and show to others, that not all is lost in an age of violence and despair.

Thank you, Yuuri, for handing me back the heart of the world.

Yuuri finished skating his free program, the last run through before he left Hasetsu for the airport.

Yuko and Nishigori clapped and cheered as he finished.

Yuuri panted, doubled over his kees, then skated over to Viktor.

I was ready. This was my favorite part. Poor Yuuri. Viktor chewed him out, nit-picking every little tiny detail of Yuuri's performance that none of the rest of us had even noticed, even though I'd caught it all for the documentary.

After thoroughly destroying him, Yuuri simply nodded and acknowledged everything.

Viktor finally hugged him one more time and walked away, leaving Yuuri with me.

Still regaining his breath, Yuuri dragged the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat off and smiled at my camera. "Was it good?"

"Good skate," I said. "Yuuri, tell the audience online: are you ready for Worlds?"

Yuuri's smile turned into a grin. "You bet."

Then he squared shoulders with me and bowed to the camera. "Thank you, everyone, for following me this far! Please continue to support me at the World Championships!" Yuko and Nishigori cheered behind him.

I cut the feed with him still bowed low.

_I'll support you, Yuuri, with everything I know to do._

_May your bright victory shine at the World Championships. May you show everyone that love is the victory in your program, On My Love._

_Win, Katsuki Yuuri. Win._

_One week later_  
_Paris, France_  
_Figure Skating World Championships_  
_Yuuri_

After placing in fourth in the short program, behind Yurio, Otabek, and Chris, I had to skate not only a personal best on my free program to have a chance at a medal, but if I wanted gold now, I had to skate the best performance of my life thus far.

I stepped onto the ice and turned back around to Viktor.

Viktor took my hand and kissed my ring. He locked eyes with me.

No words were needed. I was ready. All of my hard work led me to this moment. All of my love. I had but to show it.

"Go," Viktor said, his eyes shining as if he was already witnessing my victory.

The announcer called my name and the crowd cheered.

"I'm going," I said, letting go of Viktor's hand.

I skated to the center of the ice.

The crowd quieted down as I got into position. This song was written for my skating career, by another person who had chosen art above all else. The program was On My Love, and this song was Yuri on Ice. This was everything I had, and therefore everything I had to give.

If I but make one contribution to the world, but one thing that I make that is beautiful, let it be this.

The music started.


	32. Chapter 32

_Figure Skating World Championships_

_Paris, France_

_Katsuki Yuuri_

Somehow, though performance anxiety had always felt so heavy to me, as I began to skate, I felt so light. The bright lights, the sounds from the audience around me fell away, and it was just me on the ice with the music. I was a bird with wings flying over the ocean, playing in the sun.

The only person who could see me was Viktor. Viktor, who believed in me so much, he convinced me to believe in myself. Viktor, who would hug me afterwards no matter what I did on this ice. Viktor, who loved me so dearly he would marry me, if I but believed in myself enough to win a gold as his prize.

I was going to do this.

The music flowed through me, bending me and arcing me in ways I could not do on my own. I was the wind, the ocean breeze from home. I was freer than any conduit, set alight with electricity. When I flew into my first jump, it felt like ages before I came back down. In the back of my mind I wondered how high I'd jumped just then, but I let that thought go, unwilling to release this flow. I relinquished myself to the river's current.

I landed all the jumps in the first half, but I felt myself tiring quickly. But this is where I am known to shine. Viktor drew on my stamina and choreographed this for me.

I picked up a second wind.

I pushed, but once I breathed, my body wasn't so tired that I needed to force myself, and I surrendered back into the flow. The music accelerated and I let it pull me along, flinging me far and wide. After I landed my last jump, the sounds of the crowd finally permeated through my consciousness. Tears sprung to my eyes as I launched into my final spin sequence and gave it everything I had. This was all; this was the best I'd ever done by far, this was the very best I was capable of and the very last of all the talent and energy I had to give. This was it!

The music wound down, and I fell out of my spin sequence in the final rotation and found Viktor, extending my hand toward him.

His face was full of joy, and as the music ended I saw Viktor leap into the air, both fists high.

The crowd exploded, so loud I couldn't hear my own heart beat, then amidst the cacophony I heard Viktor screaming for all he was worth.

I relaxed out of my final pose and gave a bow, but only then did I realize I was about to faint again. I sunk to my knees as fast as I could and put my hands out on the ice, forcing my eyes to look at them and analyze every detail, not to succumb to the darkness that threatened to encroach on my vision. A harsh chill ran all over my body and my stomach lurched. I covered my mouth with my hand and only just managed to keep from vomiting. My body had been stretched past its limits, but now the roar of the crowd was coming back, and I could tell I was going to be okay. I was coming back.

A little girl appeared at my side with a Pooh bear.

I smiled at her. "That's for Yuzuru Hanyu, not me."

She held the bear out. I blinked, and the Pooh bear changed to a Makkachin. I smiled, took it and patted the little girl's head. She skated away.

I was back.

I bowed in every direction, but didn't trust myself to loop the rink and thank each side. I was so close to fainting again I didn't want to skate around.

"Yuuri!!"

Viktor held his arms out to me.

With one last bow and wave in every direction, I skated back to the person who had started me on this path.

_Viktor_

Yuuri skated his best version of that program by far. I screamed myself hoarse.

When Yuuri stepped off the ice into my arms, I confirmed what we'd all suspected when he'd knelt on the ice: he was about to faint. He was quivering live a leaf in an autumn wind.

I managed to guide him over to the kiss and cry and sit with him. Hayakawa knelt in front of us with the other cameramen.

"Get a bucket," I managed to say to Hayakawa before Yuuri bent over and hurled his guts out right into my hands.

"It's okay," I said through his mortified gasping. "Let it out. It's okay, babe."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, urp—"

By the time someone got a trashcan in front of Yuuri, he'd already thrown up all over the two of us. God, it was seriously the most wretched thing I'd ever seen. Such a beautiful skate from a beautiful skater, yet the assistants rushed around to get a towell as I held a dry-heaving Yuuri against my chest. So much for those gloves. I would keep them—after many washings—but still.

They must've broadcast the whole thing, because the crowd groaned. I hushed Yuuri and held him against me, tucking his face against my jacket because he was so embarrased. I wished to God I had a breath mint on me.

The scores were announced.

Yuuri broke my world record.

I hugged him tight, but Yuuri was so spent, he could barely stand up and bow to everyone again. It wasn't even registering with him. His face was alternating between white as a sheet and a little bit green.

Yuuri begged me to take him back to the hotel so he could wind down before the medals ceremony (assuming he won a medal, or I guessed he might want to attend either way), but I was loathe to miss Yurio, Otabek and Chris skate. Hayakawa—bless the man—offered to take Yuuri back and have his assistant bring me back a change of clothes.

The final three skated solid programs, though Yurio downgraded on one jump that had been bothering him since his growth spurt. Yurio had the gift of time, and of a body with relatively few injuries. He would win his title in time.

Even though my entire body ached from my injuries, especially the new ones since the riot, the strongest ache within me after watching the final three skate was the ache to return to the ice.

Yuuri wasn't there when it was announced that he'd won the gold.

All the cameras were in my face and it felt like _I'd_ won the damn thing (six in a row, yeah!) and I ended up having to do all the interviews and apologize that Yuuri was recovering after feeling ill from his free skate. They seemed to buy it. Maybe it was ultimately a good thing that Yuuri had thrown up on everything.

I texted Hayakawa: _Gold._

His reply: _You want to tell him?_

Me: _No. Get it on camera. You do it_.

Him: _Thanks._

Yuuri had thrown up all over his free skate costume, so he'd worn his short program outfit (mine from the Junior Worlds) for the medals ceremony, standing center podium to Chris and Otabek. I'd kissed the medal. Hayakawa got a photo of Yuuri and I kissing it like we were trying to kiss each other, but the medal had gotten in the way. A World Championship gold medal, in the way of our love! It was so cheesy I almost couldn't stand it.

There had been a banquet that night (Yuuri was strictly banned from drinking) and a party afterwards, but unfortunately Yuuri had needed to retire early, because he looked like he was about to die. He crashed as soon as we got to the hotel room, so much so I'd had to help him stay standing in the shower. Once in bed, he fell asleep in my arms and slept through the night.

Yuuri had woken once during the night. I woke to find him watching me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," Yuuri said with a smile. "I just know what I need to do."

#

The next day was the exhibition. I strapped on my skates, in my same outfit from last year's worlds. It was like I had never left, and yet at the same time everything had changed.

Yuuri was completely calm leading up to it. We waited for literally all of the skaters to finish, which for me was normal (I was accustomed to winning, so of course I would always go last), but this was a brand new thing for Yuuri.

With my guards on my blades, I stood up and stretched again, walking around to sink into the skates. I was so excited to head back out on the ice. The pain was getting less and less these days, since I had been taking it easy and only doing basic training. I would bring my program back for the Olympics, where I would compete against Yuuri, but for now, my World Champion had his time to shine.

I felt Yuuri's eyes on me as I walked back and forth. I turned around and struck a pose.

"You look beautiful tonight," Yuuri said softly.

I scoffed. "Where did that come from?"

I walked over to him and flipped my hair like I was a famous actress. Yuuri pulled me to him and took my hand out, extending me backwards and shifting our weight back and forth like we were slow-motion ballroom dancing right there. I heard Yuuri say softly in Japanese "Can you hear my heart beat?"

I pulled back from my dip and enveloped him in a hug. "Of course I can. I heard it when you skated my routine a year ago."

Yuuri laid his head on my collarbone, leading me to dance a few more moments. Hayakawa got everything, and for once I was glad, because I wanted to be able to see this again later.

For the men's warmup, when I entered the ice with Yuuri, the crowd went wild and Yuuri's laugh was such a joyful sound. I knew for once that we would both skate and simply enjoy it. We watched Chris and Otabek skate their exhibitions, wiggling and keeping warm.

Our time came.

The announcer called World Championship Gold Medalist, Katsuki Yuuri.

Yuuri kissed me on the cheek and leapt onto the ice to tremendous applause.

I took my guards off and waited for Yuuri to skate this intro, then I joined him.

Even more than the applause at my appearance, Yuuri's radiant face warmed me inside.

We skated the modified routine, where I did no jumps, but it flowed well enough that the audience still enjoyed it. During the last lift, I faltered. Yuuri slipped down early, through my arms instead of me actually setting him down. The audience gasped, but Yuuri's expression when he came down was of lighthearted surprise, like he was literally thinking _Whoah!_ I laughed and set him down, glad it was the last lift because apparently my muscles were still recovering enough that they didn't want to lift Yuuri that many times in a row. If there weren't some kind of unexpected hiccup, it wouldn't be an exhibition!

As the music swelled, Yuuri pumped his arm and the crowd rose to its feet and cheered. With so many people here in Paris, it was even louder than the Russian Nationals. It was incredible!

I held Yuuri to me one last time, spinning him around and then sending him out as we stretched into our final pose, one hand out beckoning the audience to join us, and the other reaching toward each other. I panted hard; it was over. That was it.

The crowd went nuts.

Yuuri shouted and pumped his fists, then swooped around me as if to beckon the crowd to cheer for me, of all people.

"This is all you!" I shouted at him, though I didn't think he could hear me. All the same, I gave a bow, then took Yuuri's hand and we bowed together. Bouquets rained down on us. I saw Japanese flags and Russian flags, but to my gleeful surprise, I saw the rainbow flag as well.

Yuuri released my hand and was looping the rink, so I stood in the middle and waived, letting Yuuri have his moment. Then the cheering of the crowd turned to surprise and raised in pitch, which was somewhat alarming. What was going on?

I spun around looking for Yuuri, then realized all the spotlights were on him except for the one on me.

Yuuri was across the rink from me, on one knee, holding his ring out to me with one hand.

Wait, what?

I stared at him in confusion, then skated a little closer to confirm what I was seeing.

I laughed, and shouted at him. "Why are you giving me _your_ ring?"

Yuuri grinned and yelled back "Because if I took yours, you'd figure it out! I wanted it to be a surprise!"

A surprise for—oh.

OH.

Yuuri'd won gold, and now he was asking me to marry him, right here on the ice.

For a second my emotions overwhelmed me. I was so happy.

I ran a hand through my hair to get it out of my face. I contemplated milking the crowd for a bit and shrugging at them to tell me what to do or something, but in the end I couldn't bring myself to.

I nodded, holding my arms out to Yuuri.

Yuuri slipped his ring back on and leapt to his feet, skating right into my arms.

The crowd went crazy.

Yuuri took my hand and led me around to rink, the two of us together.

Two fans were waving their flags side by side, a Japanese flag and a Russian flag. Yuuri pulled us over and we each grabbed ours and thanked the fans (who squealed and freaked out). Then we looped the rink again, trailing our flags behind us.

I knew we would sign legal documents to give each other more protection, but I hoped in this moment, the governments of our respective countries saw us skating with our flags, and that this somehow encouraged them to consider legalizing gay marriage.

Yuuri tugged my hand and looked back at me, grinning with his eyes full of tears. I was certain I looked the same.

_I love you._

_Let's get married someday._

_We call everything that happens on the ice "love."_

_Thank you, Yuuri._

_Please stay by my side._

The End

 


	33. Chapter 33

_Epilogue_

_Six months later_

_Viktor_

After the World Championships, Hasetsu threw us a welcome home parade.

It was touching, but also way, way too much.

Then as we started exploring what we wanted to do for our next season (after Yuuri took a trip to Thailand to see Phichit, and Chris and I ran around Mongolia together, because why not?), the newfound popularity of having the world champion figure skater training in such a small town became more than we could handle. The Katsuki's had booming business at the onsen, and the Ice Castle was completely booked for lessons. Even Minako-sensei had to quit her job at the bar because she advertised that Yuuri had learned ballet from her and now her studio was full again. It was wonderful, but Yuuri was being approached in public, and our early-morning practices were accompanied by crowds waiting outside. It was all fun and games until Yuuri started falling in practice and having panic attacks off the ice, so we had to leave.

Yuuri refused to go to Russia for any significant length of time, citing the assassination attempt on me whenever I brought it up, so we ruled Saint Petersburg out. It was also made very clear to me that if I returned to St. Petersburg by myself, that Yuuri would be more than a little pissed. So training with Yakov was out.

We'd lived in Nagano for a few weeks and trained at the rink there, but ultimately we didn't have any of the perks of Hasetsu or of Saint Petersburg: no home, and no coach. I missed having a home to go to, especially since I'd had to leave Makkachin back in Hasetsu while I lived with Yuuri in a hotel room in Nagano. It was hard.

We both did a training camp in Toronto with Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernandez's coach Brian Orser.

Then we secretly returned to Hasetsu for a while, but it was starting to feel like our break between seasons was less relaxation and more a stressed-out avoidance of people. Fame definitely had its downsides. I'd mastered the cordial smile that succeeded in repelling people, but as always Yuuri's humility just seemed to invite fans in.

When he got back to Hasetsu, Yuuri's mother had a proposition for us.

Her sister lived in Sapporo, and had offered to let us live with her.

We moved immediately. This time I took Makkachin with us.

Yuuri's aunt was completely different from her sister, but loved to cook and therefore took great delight in having us as guests. Yuuri had shrugged at me and reasoned that we could at least stay here until we wore out our welcome, then we'd go somewhere else. At least we didn't have to hire bodyguards.

There was an Olympic-sized skating rink in Sapporo and one of the coaches there offered to take us on, on the agreement that she would keep it a secret that we were training there. When we got the ice, it was only ours. We were training at 4am each morning, but the rink was ours.

Furthermore, Yakov was willing to visit us there, so he brought Mila and Yurio for a week-long training camp. That was seriously fun times.

Then one morning, Yuuri told me that he'd found an attorney's office that had Russian interpreters. They were accustomed to working with Russians living in Hokkaido as expats, and had even helped some clients who came from overseas with civil union marriages to arrange for legal rights in Japan.

We booked our appointment.

Yuuri led me into an office that could be any law office: bookshelves from floor to ceiling, leather chairs and a secretary sitting at a large stately desk in front. We waited for our appointment, and were eventually taken to one of the back offices.

"Welcome," an older Japanese woman greeted us and introduced herself as Attorney Shirokawa. She then introduced the young woman next to her as Irina Yamamura. She smiled at me and straight away told me in Russian that she was half-Russian, half-Japanese.

I looked at Yuuri and squeezed his hand. "Perfect."

Yuuri smiled. I was glad to see he wasn't nervous.

Attorney Shirokawa shuffled her papers and launched right in. "Could I have you each state why would wish to pursue legal bonds to each other? Viktor is welcome to do this in Russian."

Yuuri looked to me first, so I jumped in.

"I was injured this last year in something of a freak accident," I began. If by freak accident I meant a hate crime, but I really didn't want to get into that part of things today. "I'm pretty distant from my family, and my coach has some legal waivers to help me, but I'd like Yuuri to be able to make decisions for me if I'm ever unconscious in the hospital… again."

Shirokawa nodded gravely. I let out a breath.

Yuuri patted me knee. "I want to marry this man."

There was a moment of silence, then all of us laughed.

"Me too!" I said, the tension broken.

#

Since I had started things out by mentioning my recent hospitalization, we began there, discussing what each of us would like. This was more of a meeting establishing parameters, and then Attorney Shirokawa would have her assistants research the legal avenues available to us on the Japanese side, and translate a summary of things in Russian so I was still kept in the loop.

We wanted to be able to visit each other in the hospital as primary legal representative, power of attorney. We wanted access to each other even before blood family members. Yuuri said that his parents would understand. I would never keep Yuuri's parents from seeing him anyways. We then discussed this specifically Japanese tradition called last visitation rights, something I had known nothing about.

Apparently, when the doctor deemed someone within forty-eight hours of passing away, he called a family representative, who then called every single family member far and wide, and the entire extended family converged on this dying person in the hospital and wished them goodbye. One problem with gay couples who stay in the closet was that not only did the dying person's partner not have the legal right to stayed with them, but when the whole clan arrived, they would all ask what this "friend" was doing here at such a critical time, and the partner might be pressured to leave. Therefore, there were many sad reports of LGBT partners who were unable to be with their loved one while dying. This was not just legal status—for the hospital staff to be able to allow the person back into the room—but in the case of being allowed to attend the funerals and wakes, just simply being out to the family. Luckily all of Yuuri's family had known he'd been in love with me since about age five, so we were good there.

I personally, however, could not grasp the concept of wanting my extended family who couldn't be bothered to visit me in the hospital beforehand to suddenly show up while I was trying to fucking die. If the pain I'd felt in the hospital was any indication—and the foggy disconnection from my body that the narcotics inflicted—then dying was going to be a serious ordeal, when my time came. A person had to really focus on relaxing enough for the body to realize it was okay to let go. I did not want every fucking family member who oozed out of the woodwork to ask me for money once I started winning championships in figure skating to suddenly show up again in my final act.

"Yuuri only," I'd said to the interpreter, absolutely no room for argument in my voice. "Absolutely no one else. Just Yuuri."

After the heavy discussions of illness and death were over (and brushing aside the adopting children part, because yeah), we moved on to a discussion of finances. This was more of an issue when one spouse made significantly less than the other, and therefore a blending of finances became necessary. In our case, even though I'd won a lot more prize money than Yuuri, he still made enough from his extensive public appearances (we had Hayakawa to thank for that) that we agreed to leave our financial accounts completely separated. Like with adopting children, we'd cross that bridge if it ever came. My priority had simply been that Yuuri had the legal right to stand by me, that he was prioritized in his legal access to me. Once it looked like Shirokawa thought her team would be able to find methods to do that, I relaxed back in my chair. This was going to be a really good thing.

Our appointment lasted three hours. We covered everything that anyone could possibly think about in terms of a legal partnership: from organ donation to the right to die and other end-of-life designations. Marriage in this manual sense was seriously arduous: instead of the set package where you sign a marriage certificate and then you get the legal status of spouse, we were having to weave every thread together, strand by strand. The legal fees would be steep too, with how much time it sounded like this was going to take. Though we took a short break in the middle to get coffee, I was thoroughly exhausted when I got out.

Yuuri held my hand as we walked to the subway.

"I'm beat," I said.

"Me too," Yuuri said. "I'd also just, like, never thought about either of us dying before, you know?"

I snorted. "You think me an immortal? Only my legacy, dear disciple."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "It made me picture you when at ninety."

"I hope your picture of me still had this stunning hair."

Yuuri swatted my shoulder. "It was pretty sad, but I'm also glad I'll be there for it. Unless things change, of course, but for me I don't think they will."

"I don't think they will for me either," I said. "Though you never know."

I thought of something else I'd been meaning to say for a long time. Our hands looped together, I rubbed Yuuri's knuckle with my thumb.

"I was in desperate need of more answers than I had at the end of last season. Seeing you skate my routine on Youtube shone a light on a new path for me, one I think I will continue to follow," I said.

Yuuri smiled, and planted a kiss on my cheek. "I guess someday one of us will watch the other die, and then be alone."

I heaved a breath. "You sure know how to lighten up an afternoon."

"I'll be there for you, at the end," Yuuri said, squeezing my hand.

I smiled. "Japanese longevity, and all. I doubt you'll be the one to go first."

"No, but really," Yuuri insisted, meeting my eyes. "I'll be there for you at the end of your life, when you're scared to walk into the darkness. You won't be alone, and I won't be either, with my family and all. You and I can stay together, and you'll never have to worry that you'll have to face anything alone and afraid. There's no need to be afraid about anything anymore, Viktor. I'll be there with you."

I simply could not handle the sincerity of this moment. I knew I would have to process it later. "Thank you, Yuuri. I love you."

"I love you too."

The End—Epilogue

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thank you for joining me on this incredible journey! 
> 
> Sorry things weren't very romantic in this epilogue xD. They even got a little morbid in there. As someone who recently got married, I wanted to show the more practical side of things, instead of a magical Disneyland wedding. I too experienced a marriage that was the negotiation of legal documents. This is why legalization for LGBT couples is so important. Before we got married, my partner and I were unable to help each other if one of us got cut from our health insurance, which actually happened. After that experience, we realized the state we were in, that our love ultimately did not mean anything in the eyes of the law, unless we got everything written down, signed and sealed. Now we are on the same health insurance, and we can actually make decisions for each other if one of us was ever in the hospital. We now outrank blood family members, which is how it should be. It's not very romantic, but it's powerful, so I wanted to show that with Viktor and Yuuri.
> 
> Thank you again for reading and commenting. Best wishes to your reading and writing endeavors. I hope you continue to be inspired by Yuri on Ice. :D <3 Bye!


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